Half Truths
by Kimsa Ki-Lurria
Summary: Mid SS-arc. “Ishida-kun,” she breathes, reaching her hands through the bars to the broken Quincy. “You are a good person.” She will tell him whatever he wants to hear. It is her gift to the living dead. Dark, Ishihime. Complete.
1. Voice

Spur-of-the-moment work, just as I think fanfiction should be. Considerably dark, just to warn you ahead of time. Present tense, Orihime third-person-POV.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. I'm just borrowing, but sharing is caring, yes? No? Oh well.

Summary: Mid SS-arc. "Ishida-kun," she breathes, reaching her hands through the bars to the broken Quincy. "You are a good person." She will tell him whatever he wants to hear. It is her gift to the living dead. Dark, Ishihime.

* * *

_Half-Truths_

_- Voice - _

* * *

He is dangerous. A criminal. A murderer. A _monster_.

This is what they tell her.

She doesn't want to believe it. She knows the truth.

"Hold still, please, Inoue-san," Unohana says calmly, her cool hands pressing Orihime down against the hospital cot as she struggles to rise. Orihime's blood gushes over her persistent fingertips. "Everything will be all right."

No, she knows, nothing will be "all right." Not until she makes them understand that Ishida-kun is _not_ dangerous, that he is the farthest thing from a criminal, a murderer, a — _God help her_ — monster.

"I have to see him," she tries to say. "I have to see Ishida-kun!"

But her bleeding throat will not cooperate. The tilting world is drenched in red and black and is falling apart, apart, like broken puzzle pieces, and then she sinks into oblivion, and knows no more.

* * *

_"Have you heard about the _ryoka_?"_

_"The one who took out half the twelfth division? Yes, of course! I heard he killed dozens of shinigami in one blow."_

_"It's true. Almost half of Kurotsuchi-taichou's division, along with Kurotsuchi-taichou himself, are gone. There's just a big, empty crater where they were."_

_"Gods! I heard he even attacked his own comrade."_

_"Right. A girl, I think — can't remember her name. They found her lying in a pool of her own blood at the edge of the crater. The _ryoka_ boy was trying to keep her alive, but I heard he'd wounded her almost fatally."_

_"Hah — he was fixing her up, was he? No doubt trying to gain sympathy in his favor. A monster like that deserves only death."_

* * *

She wakes to healing and death. Her entire body feels constricted, like a mummified queen's, and her wounded neck is swathed with crimson-soaked bandages. She asks her limp hand to rise to check the extent of the damage, but it refuses. She hurts all over.

Orihime cannot remember coming here. Where is she?

Familiar faces. The kind-eyed woman again, Unohana-taichou. Concerned physicians bending over her, clucking worriedly as they probe her injuries. And a head of shocking orange in the background, bobbing furiously as its owner pushes his way through the gathered crowd.

Orihime blinks slowly, afraid that if she attempts to take everything in at once, she will fall asleep again.

That orange-headed person comes to a stop by her side. He falls to his knees, and she cannot help but notice that his hands are trembling as he gestures to get her attention.

"Inoue," he says softly. She blinks at him uncomprehendingly. Does she know him? Does she? She thinks that she does, she knows that she does, but still she is unsure.

Again, she tries to speak. All that comes out is a rasping wheeze, a dead girl's gasp, and something hot and wet dots her lips. There is newfound panic in the orange-headed boy's voice, but Orihime can barely hear it. Her ears feel hot and sticky too, and suddenly the physicians are swooping in, chattering, trying to save her life.

* * *

She sleeps.

Sometimes she wakes, drifting in and out of consciousness like an indecisive dreamer, and catches snatches of the world outside her cocoon of silence and nothingness. More often than not, the orange-headed boy is there. He meets her eye every time, his familiar face lighting up, before falling into shadow as she slips back into rest.

Ichigo. Kurosaki-kun.

Now she remembers. She wishes she didn't.

* * *

One day, she wakes, and does not immediately fall back to sleep again. She opens her swollen eyes and moves them around, scanning the small room, pretending not to see the napping boy at her side. He is the only one in the room besides her, but she can hear people chattering in the hallway, always at the ready.

Kurosaki-kun looks exhausted. He sits cross-legged by her head, his pale, drawn face leaning against the paper-thin wall. There are bruised half-moon circles beneath his closed eyes. Orihime aches to see him like this and tries to get her limbs to move. It is hard. She does not know how long she has been lying here, slowly returning to the world of the dead, but her joints and muscles are stiff and weak with disuse.

Finally, she settles on testing her vocal cords. She manages to force out a tiny, guttural interpretation of his name.

"Kkkk…rosss…ki-kun…"

The pathetic attempt brings tears of agony to her eyes. Her throat is roaring in protest, fire burning at her tongue. But Kurosaki-kun hears her. His eyes fly open and he bolts upright, his wild gaze instantly on her pained face.

"Inoue…!"

_Up, please, _she pleads with her lips. _Smile at him._

Her lips barely curve, and that itself is a triumph.

* * *

Healing. Moving forward. Weeks pass. Day by day, she returns to herself.

Unohana has taken her under her wing, though Orihime is only a hostile _ryoka. _She is shielded from those who consider her an enemy, protected under the claim that she is only a wounded child and has done no evil. Kurosaki-kun, too, and Chad, wherever he is, is granted a brief amnesty, though there are always shinigami on guard. He has not killed anyone, has not stolen shinigami life.

Not like _him_.

* * *

He has been imprisoned. She is not allowed to see him.

"You have to let me talk to him," she rasps quietly. The effort of speaking, of using her still-healing vocal cords, makes her head swim with pain. But she must. She _has_ to make them understand. "It was...an accident. He's…ugh…he's not that kind of person."

They coax her back to bed with murmured words of comfort and denial. "Don't speak, Inoue-san," Unohana says firmly. "It will ruin your voice, maybe permanently."

She would gladly give up her voice a hundred times over, if only it would make them listen to her.

* * *

Desperation. Orihime tries to heal herself, and fails. She finds it ironic, in a funny, sick sort of way. She can heal others, restore life and flesh, but cannot even help herself to help another.

Laughter bubbles up through her ravaged throat. Kurosaki-kun is there, trying to make her stop, to silence her, and she laughs because _he is such a terrible, terrible friend to do this to Ishida-kun and to her and she doesn't understand, and that is __**hilarious**_ —

Silence.

* * *

Despair.

* * *

"_They have the _ryoka_ girl down in the Fourth. Heard she's a nutcase. Won't stop talking about how the Quincy is innocent, how it's all a mistake. She acts like he tried to save her."_

"_Didn't he cut open her throat and almost make her go mute?"_

"_Yeah, that's what I heard. She's starting to speak again. And he's all she ever talks about. They're actually starting to think that it might be best if they let her see him."_

"_See him? In the Maggot's Nest? She really is crazy…"_

* * *

"Inoue, you have to eat it. You haven't eaten anything in two days!"

Orihime clamps her jaw and stares straight through Kurosaki-kun and the offered food. Her hands grip the folds of her blanket and curl into gaunt fists. She won't. Not until they listen.

_For Ishida-kun. _

* * *

"_It's done. They gave in."_

"_Really? And here I thought we had some backbone."_

* * *

This is the first real breath of fresh air that she has gotten in almost a month.

Orihime tilts back her head for a moment, forgetting where she is, ignoring who she is with, and lets the breeze wash over her face. She breathes in deeply. The fragile muscles in her throat protest dangerously under the pressure, and she lets her head fall down again, relaxing them.

Her voice is still not what it used to be. Even Unohana's legendary healing powers have not bolstered it back to full health. She will use it anyway.

Kurosaki-kun's hand cups her elbow, earning him her attention. Orihime glances at him, her gaze sliding along the imposing shinigami "escorting" them. They are there for her protection only. Ishida-kun is a dangerous criminal now.

The Maggot's Nest. Tall, imposing walls made of _reiatsu_-negating stone tower over her, giving her a sense of vertigo. It seems as if they will topple and crush her any second now. She shivers and fixes her gaze on the gigantic, barred door before her.

Kurosaki-kun does not rush her. Absently, she thinks that he is a good friend.

Nerves make her hesitate, procrastinate. She looks anywhere but ahead of her. The long, perfectly white tower where Rukia is being kept catches her attention. Rukia's execution has been delayed. Justice for Ishida-kun is far more important than justice for a dutiful shinigami who accidently lent her spiritual power to an errant human.

_No_, she reminds herself. What Ishida-kun will receive is not justice. He deserves none of this.

Orihime straightens her shoulders, lifts her chin, and steps towards the Maggot's Nest.

* * *

Fear. It permeates the walls, the floor, the ceiling. It winds its way into her heart and cuts off her air supply, making her gasp for breath.

She cannot do it, she cannot do it — she is at his cell and she cannot do it —

_Yes. She. Can._

* * *

Even as a prisoner of death gods, Ishida-kun is dressed in white. Pure, innocent, heroic — and _not_ a murderer. She kneels in front of his cell, her thin hands wrapping around the thick bars that separate them. Her heart is pounding in her chest, her eyes wide with adrenaline and shock and horror.

Ishida-kun is clothed in the color of angels, but he has fallen.

He sits in the empty, filthy cell with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest. His arms, long and pale and much too thin, lie limply at his sides. His head is bowed and his long blue-black hair falls around his face, obscuring him from her vision. Orihime forgets to breathe and only remembers when her chest shrieks with strained heat. Her breath comes out in a rush.

"Ishida-kun," she calls in a whisper. He does not move. She thinks he is sleeping, but her eyes do not tell her that he is breathing. She fears for her life.

"Ishida-kun!" Her head snaps up to stare at Kurosaki-kun, who is scowling at the ground, his arms folded across his chest. "Kurosaki-kun, what's wrong with him?"

He shakes his head and does not meet her eyes.

Orihime looks at Ishida-kun, then to her shaking hands, and back to Kurosaki-kun. This time, he catches her gaze. Something shifts in his neutral, indifferent expression, and his eyes harden, a familiar scowl returning to his countenance. Kurosaki-kun steps forward and grips the bars to Ishida-kun's cell.

"_Ishida_."

No response. Orihime is starting to believe that Ishida-kun might have died. The tears well up, painful and fiery, and she hears herself sob.

"Ishida-kun, _please_ look at me," she pleads hoarsely.

He twitches. Orihime watches, waiting with her breath held, and feels herself start to tremble as he lifts his head. She hears her own devastated gasp.

His eyes are…lifeless. He stares at her dully, uncomprehendingly, as if he cannot believe she is actually there. She wonders what they have done to him.

"Inoue-san?" he asks quietly, flatly. He swallows convulsively, and a spark brightens his eyes for a split second before fading away. "Inoue-san?"

She nods her head, her throat clenching agonizingly. "Yes," she croaks weakly.

Ishida-kun licks his lips and lets his daze dart away to Kurosaki-kun, to the guards standing watch behind Orihime, and back to her.

"How...do I know you're real?" he asks cautiously.

Her lips curve up. Given the situation, it is such an Ishida-kun thing to say. It makes her giddy with hope to think that he is not completely lost.

She shrugs and shakes her head. "Tell me how to prove it and I will, Ishida-kun. I'll even dress up like a super-hero pony and bake you a leek cake."

It is the single oddest thing she has said in the past three weeks, and it feels wonderful. Ishida-kun says nothing for a while, and she sits still as he silently takes in his surroundings. She can see some of his old self returning to him. Her head spins with joy.

"They wouldn't tell me if you had died," he murmurs.

"I'm okay, Ishida-kun," she promises him. "I'm okay."

Ishida-kun frowns and gets to his knees gingerly. He ignores the guards as they tense, waiting for him to strike.

"Your voice…"

She smiles reassuringly at him. "It'll come back."

His dull blue eyes go dark, and his white-porcelain hands fold into fists on his bent knees. "I did that. I did that to you."

Orihime shakes her head desperately, trying to make him see reason without words. But he falls back against the wall, closes his dead, dark eyes, and will not look at her. Again, before her is only half the Ishida-kun she remembers.

* * *

Orihime understands guilt. She understands what it can do to people, especially when they are isolated as Ishida-kun is.

She also understands how to release guilt, soothing it away so it will only leave, at the worst, a pale scar. Orihime has many scars. Yet, she has a feeling that Ishida-kun will have more.

For a long time, there is no sound in the room except that of her halting breathing. She blinks at her hands in her lap and looks across the cell to study Ishida-kun's frail, defeated frame.

She will heal him.

"Ishida-kun," she breathes, reaching her hands through the bars to the broken Quincy. "You are a good person."

* * *

They tell her that he is dangerous. Criminal, murderer, monster.

She knows that he is kind. Hero, guardian, protector.

And she will prove it to him.

* * *

A/N: Review, please. Comments and questions encourage me to write. And if there are any typos, grammar mistakes, or matters that I have overlooked, please let me know.

-Kimsa


	2. Selfish

Thank you, **bloodandpepper, reviewer, QuincyArcherIsABadAss, epic fail gal, Sheepsama13, Itachi'sNailPolish, ArrowSphere, Mitsuko's Keyboard, DarthSukiMomo,** and **nehalenia** for reviewing and adding me/the story to alerts/favorites. You're all _awesome_! :D

Anyone I couldn't respond to, review replies are at the end of the chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. But sharing is caring, yes? No? Oh well.

* * *

_Half-Truths_

_- Selfish -_

* * *

Orihime does not think of herself as a selfish person.

Everything she does, she does for someone else. She heals to save others' lives, comforts to soothe others' fears, laughs to humor her friends, and stays alive to _keep_ them alive. At first, she lived for Sora, and when he passed, Tatsuki — then Kurosaki-kun, and Kuchiki-san.

Who does she live for now?

Ishida-kun. She lives to free him, to bring him back to the light, to show the world that he is a savior, not a villain. She is alive because he is alive. He gives her purpose.

No, Orihime is not a selfish person.

…is she…?

* * *

"No."

Orihime feels her face contort with anguish. She clasps her hands together over her heart and gives Kurosaki-kun her most imploring expression. The _shinigami_ giving them odd looks as they pass in the halls are ignored.

"Please," she says quietly.

He shakes his head, folds his arms across his chest in a stubborn manner, and frowns at her. "No, Inoue."

"But he needs me!" she exclaims. Fire lances through her throat, scalding, scathing, and she winces. When the fire's heat dies down, she continues in a softer voice. "How is he supposed to survive if he has no one to talk to?"

Kurosaki-kun is not an unkind person, and she can see pain flickering in his brown orbs. It is wrong for her to hurt him like this, to put him between a rock and a hard place, but she must. For Ishida-kun. Not for herself. She does not need anything.

"He'll make it, Inoue. He's Ishida! You know how hard-headed he is. He'll never give in to them."

"But…" Tears make the world before her blurry with desperation. _But he already has…_

She cannot say it. She _will not_ say it.

Kurosaki-kun sighs and lets his arms fall to his sides. "Look. I want him out of there as much as you do. But there's just no way that they'll let you in to see him again. You know what it took for them to agree the first time. You can't go back to starving yourself, Inoue, it won't help anything. Just…let me talk to them. I'll try, okay?"

She nods and stares at her sandaled feet. Water dangles from the tips of her eyelashes.

Kurosaki-kun sighs again and runs a hand through his hair, as he does when he is upset. Vaguely, she wonders what she has done to make him angry with her. He is so impatient…would Ishida-kun have gotten frustrated with her had his role been switched with Kurosaki-kun's?

"I'll see you later, Inoue." Kurosaki-kun's hand grips her thin shoulder. There was a time when his mere touch would have sent her reeling with embarrassment, flushing and stuttering with joy. Now, she does not even look up. Her insides feel hollow and cold.

He waits for a response. She is silent.

He leaves.

* * *

She is there. She can see him in the cell, huddled in the corner, curled into an angular ball of jutting bones and the white prison uniform. Orihime says his name.

Can he hear her? He is so still…

She shuffles across the cell. Her footsteps sound like she is walking on sodden, rotten leaves. Corpses beneath her feet. A dozen dead Ishida-kun's.

"Ishida-kun, Ishida-kun," she calls him, but still he does not reply. She kneels beside his shattered figure. Blood sloshes around her knees. Her hand touches his face.

His skin is freezing, so cold that the blood in her fingers turn to ice when she touches him. Her hand turns black with death. She is shivering all over and cannot stop. The tears coursing down her cheeks turn to droplets of ice, shattering as they hit the floor, and she cries, and cries, and cries.

Ishida-kun is dead. His blue, blue eyes are open and staring straight at her, scorning her to her core, _dull, lifeless, accusing_ —

Orihime's eyes fly open. She stares wildly around her, gasping with relief as she realizes that she is back in the Fourth division. There is no one in the room but her; Kurosaki-kun has stopped waiting by her side ever since she visited Ishida-kun.

In her mind's eye, she can still see Ishida-kun, curled in on himself and glaring at her with dead, freezing eyes.

Orihime buries her face in her hands, and weeps.

* * *

"How are you feeling today, Inoue-san?"

She makes herself smile at Unohana's kind, caring face, and accepts the bowl of broth offered to her. If the gentle captain notices the dark bags beneath her sleepless eyes, she does not say anything.

"Much better, thank you."

Suffering has made her out to be a liar.

* * *

Another day passes by. Another day that Ishida-kun sinks further into darkness.

She should be there to help him. She promised herself she would heal him.

Where is Kurosaki-kun?

* * *

Everyone tiptoes around her. She is breakable, fragile, bound to snap at any moment. They know it.

And she knows it. She is one who showed them.

* * *

It is two more days before Kurosaki-kun comes back to her.

She has regained the physicians' trust. The Fourth division is hers to roam without a chaperone, provided she does not wear herself out. Her throat is raw and it still hurts to speak, but Unohana has been diligent in her efforts to bring Orihime's voice back to her.

Orihime is distracted when he comes. Her thoughts linger on Ishida-kun like morning frost, and she practices forming her healing shield with his face in mind. She had not seen any injuries on him when she last visited, but if he is hurt…

Kurosaki-kun says her name and she jumps, startled. She whirls, meets his eye, sees the warm reassurance, the grim happiness in his gaze —

The healing shield blazes into existence before she cuts it off and she rises to her feet, smiling fully for the first time in a long while.

* * *

The slices of sugared plum rub against her forearm as she walks, wrapped carefully in cloth and slipped surreptitiously into her sleeve. She keeps her arm pressed against her side so no one will notice. The people of the Fourth division are kind and understand that she needs human food, and so they provide her with treats such as the sugared plum.

But this plum is not for her. Orihime waited until the physicians left the room to wrap the slices in cloth and hide it away for Ishida-kun. There is a bounce in her step, and she catches many strange looks as she skips through the hallways of the Maggot's Nest. She does not think that prison food must be very nice. Hopefully, the sweet plum will brighten Ishida-kun's spirits.

Orihime does not allow herself to think of how childish this sounds.

_Tmp, tmp, tmp._

She and Kurosaki-kun are being escorted by only two guards today. The footfalls of their sandals sound sharp and loud as they reflect off the cold, stone walls. What Kurosaki-kun said to let her see Ishida-kun again, she does not know, and he would not tell her when she asked. But her chest swells with gratitude, nonetheless.

"Listen, Inoue," he says as they walk, "we can't be here for too long. Yamamoto only agreed to let you in here because…well, he needs Ishida's cooperation. And he thinks you might be able to get him to respond. So they said we've got an hour, hour an a half, at the most."

"Don't worry, Kurosaki-kun," Orihime murmurs in her shattered-doll-voice, "I'll help Ishida-kun."

"Yeah," says Kurosaki-kun, and his beloved voice is filled with guilt and hope.

Ishida-kun gets his own cell, separated far from the rest. She thinks that maybe the _shinigami_ would like to give him some privacy. She knows that the real reason for his isolation is that they consider him too dangerous to be around other convicts.

The guards stop at the door to the cell and let her pass through with Kurosaki-kun. Orihime's breath catches in her throat, nearly strangling her. She feels her heart leaping within its confines, her eyes going wide with anticipation. The nightmare from several days past crashes to the forefront of her mind. She sees corpses beneath her feet, Ishida-kun curled and cold in the corner, her hand deadened by frostbite. Fear wells up in a sharp wail in her chest.

Kurosaki-kun touches her shoulder. Orihime comes back to herself, shaking, shivering with the chill. The sugared plums threaten to slide out of her sleeve. Drawing in a deep breath, she gives the hand on her shoulder a grateful little smile.

They are not allowed to close the door behind them, and so they inch forward, bit by bit, into the dark cell. Bars stretching from the floor to the ceiling separate them from the prisoner within.

Her eyes find Ishida-kun as if out of instinct. He is asleep again, curled up on the unforgiving surface of the only furniture in the cell: a lonely bench, which isn't nearly long enough to hold his lanky frame. His back faces the front of the cell, hiding his haunted, tortured gaze from view.

In a small way, she is glad that he is asleep. There is something terrible in his cold, dead eyes that she fears more than death.

"Ishida-kuunn," she calls softly. The plum slices slip into her open palm. She can feel Kurosaki-kun's startled gaze on her back as she moves forward, but she holds no worry that he will betray her.

It is much easier to wake Ishida-kun this time than it was the last. He stirs scant seconds after his name leaves her lips, shifting his head so he can stare at her with one eye. Shivers scamper down her spine at the sight of that hollow, empty gaze, and for a moment Orihime's nerve threatens to flee.

She swallows to wet her dry, aching throat and gives him a small smile. "Hi, Ishida-kun. It's me. Orihime. Inoue-san. Remember?"

He is as still as one dead. He does not even blink. Orihime sidles up to the bars keeping her from him and slides the hand holding the plum into the cell.

"Here," she whispers. She risks a glance at the doorway, checking to make sure no one has heard her nervous murmuring. "Look, Ishida-kun. Look what I brought."

The cloth falls away to reveal the sugar-coated plum slices. Something dangerous passes through Ishida-kun's gaze. Orihime picks out relief, disbelief, despair, and a hunger so strong and feral that it nearly knocks her off her feet. And then the emotions and hunger are gone, and Ishida-kun raises himself from the bench, but his gaze is still as empty as ever.

"Why are you here?" he asks. His voice is low and harsh, rough from weeks of disuse and lack of water. Not at all like the smooth, clipped, self-assured tones she always associates with the Ishida-kun of old.

Her tiny smile falters. She licks her dry lips, her gaze falling to Ishida-kun's hands. Long, smooth, white, stained with dirt and…

Orihime holds back a choking gasp. There is fresh blood on his hands. She follows the trail all the way up to his shoulder. A small gash in the white uniform, drenched in crimson. Her head swirls. How could she not have noticed it before?

"You're hurt," she breathes. "Let me help you, Ishida-kun, I can heal —"

"That won't be necessary," he says coldly. Pain rises in her chest like bile. Orihime feels her face crumple with hurt.

_But it _is_ necessary, _she wants to shout. _I need you to be better! I need you! Who else am I going to live for?_

Ishida-kun's lifeless eyes linger on her face. Something softens in his expression, so small and subtle that if she wasn't looking for it, she doubts it would have been there. He comes forward a little. His bare feet make no sound on the unyielding stone floor.

"Why are you here?" he asks again.

Orihime shakes her head slowly. Her fingers curl around the plum slices in her palms. "You're my friend, Ishida-kun."

"Friend."

On Orihime's lips, she hopes it conveys all the caring and fond feelings she holds for anyone she applies it to. On his…it sounds like such a silly title, stupid and childish and false. Tears fill her eyes. Is he mocking her?

Ishida-kun is directly in front of her now. With her head bowed, he seems to tower over her, though he can't possibly be that much taller than her.

His hands are at her throat in an instant. A frightened gasp rips itself from her lips and her head snaps up instinctively, her eyes going wide with surprise. Kurosaki-kun makes an odd, strangled noise.

"Ishida!"

Orihime meets Ishida-kun's gaze for a split second and clamps her eyelids shut. A hard, glacial look has replaced the emptiness in his sharp, narrowed gaze, and he glares at her with a dark fury so unlike him it terrifies her. She takes in a shuddering breath. Is this the Ishida-kun his enemies see?

Footsteps at the door — the guards. Ishida-kun's cold, mocking voice speaks from above her.

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt her."

His hands are not wrapped around her throat as she expects them to be. He presses his dirtied palms against her neck, feeling the skin. Fingers devoid of warmth find and trace the jagged edges of a pale, raised scar, and she knows exactly what he is looking for. For a wild moment, she wishes he really was trying to strangle her.

"Would a friend do this to a friend?" Ishida-kun demands, prodding the scar on her throat with his cold, cold fingers.

"You didn't mean to," she whispers tearfully. "It was an accident, Ishida-kun. You would never hurt me."

"But I did!" The words are a yelp, like an animal's shriek of pain. Orihime sobs at the sound of the heart-jerking anguish in his voice. The hands retreat. She opens her eyes to see him backing away with a stricken look on his pale face.

"I did," he murmurs to himself. "I took an oath to protect human life, innocent life, not to…I didn't want…_this_."

He waves a hand weakly, as if "this" is the entire world: her, Kurosaki-kun, the Maggot's Nest, the Seireitei, himself. Orihime watches in silence as his legs fold beneath him and he sits down, hard, on the floor.

She drops to her knees, paying no attention to Kurosaki-kun or the guards lingering at the door. It doesn't matter if they see that she has brought him food or that he nearly hurt her again. All that matters is Ishida-kun.

"What's going on, Ishida-kun? What happened to you?"

Ishida-kun groans and puts his face in his hands, moving his head back and forth. Orihime shuffles forward on her knees, nearly pressing herself against the bars in urgency. Kurosaki-kun says her name in warning.

"Ishida-kun," she says beseechingly. Pain flares in her healing throat and she winces. "Please. Tell me what happened. I only know what other people said. And I know it's not the truth."

"Really?" Ishida-kun's voice is muffled, but she can understand him. His voice is filled with a resigned torment. But it is not the numb, vacant tones that make her feel as if she is being ripped apart from the inside out.

"How do you know it's not the truth? What if it is?"

Orihime sucks in a breath, holds it, lets it out. "It's not. They say…they say that you killed a lot of people in one blow. That there's a crater where half of the twelfth division used to be, and everyone and everything inside it is…"

"Gone," Ishida-kun supplies dully. "Dead."

"Y-yeah…" Orihime wets her lips again and stares down at the purple plum in her hands. It is still outstretched, waiting for someone to take it. She keeps her hands where they are, offering it to him.

"It's true. Half of the twelfth _is_ gone." Ishida-kun lifts his head from his hands, rests it on his fists, stares emptily at her. Orihime stays very, very still. "I killed them."

Her head whips back and forth, orange hair flying around her face. "No. That can't be. I know you wouldn't do something like that. You were fighting that shinigami captain. I thought you had it under control. What happened?"

Ishida-kun's eyes fall shut for a moment. When he opens them again, the anguish is still there, vibrant and _real_, but the dullness is creeping back into his gaze again.

"I lost control. I thought I could handle it, but…I was losing, Inoue-san. I was losing to that…_monster_. And I couldn't bear the thought of it. He killed my grandfather, you know. Tortured and killed him. The thought of losing to that bastard, it…I couldn't lose. I couldn't. So I took off my glove. Doing so would grant me an infinite amount of power, almost, enough to destroy the captain and then some, and like an idiot, I thought I could control a power as great as that. And…and I…"

A shudder goes through his thin body and his face descends into his hands again. Orihime had gone very still. The steady thumping of her heart is the only noise in the room. She feels as if she will never move from this spot. Ishida-kun had…he hadn't…he couldn't have…she won't believe it, she was so sure…

"It was an accident," she says hoarsely, to convince herself as much as him. "You didn't mean to kill all those people, Ishida-kun, it wasn't…it can't…"

Ishida-kun heaves a sigh and shakes his head. Always shaking his head. "No, Inoue-san. It doesn't matter if it was an accident. The fact is that I killed them. _I_ did. No one else. It was only me."

"No!" The plums fall from Orihime's hands, landing in a heap in their little cloth bundle on the floor. Her hands fly up to her chest, holding onto her heart and sanity for dear life.

_It can't be, it can't be, itcan'tbe, no, no, nononononono_ —

"No," she moans, like a woman having her heart ripped out. "No, Ishida-kun."

And that's all she can think to say.

"There has to be a mistake, you can't, how am I…how am I supposed to save you if you…if you…"

She is barely aware of the tears scalding hot tracks down her cheeks. Her heels rock beneath her, and she is so, so sad, with her hands at her heart and Ishida-kun curled in on himself in the cell, and she hates this nightmare, it can't be anything more than a nightmare, it can't be…

_Wake me up, someone, please! __Ishida-kun? Ishida-kun? __Help me wake up, I don't want to…I don't want this…_

"…There was a girl there," says Ishida-kun. "Nemu. Her name was Nemu. She saved my life. And I killed her."

That's it. She can't take anymore. Ishida-kun is her reason for living. Ishida-kun is her purpose. Her lifeline. She lives for him. And he killed…

Orihime leaps to her feet and flees, nearly crashing into Kurosaki-kun in her haste. She has to get out. She can't stand it in there anymore. Ishida-kun needs her, she knows this, but she just can't, she's so tired and afraid and sad right now and she can't do it anymore today —

* * *

Orihime did not think of herself as a selfish person.

Everything she did, she thought she did for someone else. Until today.

* * *

A/N: Err…wow, was that depressing or what? I warned you that it was going to get dark. This isn't over yet, though. Orihime doesn't give up easily, luckily for Ishida-kun. ;)

Review replies:

**reviewer: **well, hopefully this chapter didn't scare any of them away. Hopefully. And thanks for reviewing!

**nehalenia: **I love AU's. Dark, light, humorous, angsty, whatever. They're just so much fun!

Thanks for all the reviews, you have no idea how encouraging they are. I promise, things will get better later on in the story…just not now.

Review, please! Let me know what you think — comments, (constructive) criticism, praise, I love it all!

-Kimsa


	3. Mourning

Thank you for the reviews! Every one lets me know that people are still reading and enjoying enough to leave a comment.

This chapter is the longest so far, but nothing monstrous. I actually had a lot of fun with the Orihime angst and Ishida-Kurosaki confrontation later in it, so...enjoy!

**nikcik**: review reply at end! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. But sharing is caring, yes? No? Oh well.

* * *

_Half-Truths_

_- Mourning -_

* * *

_I promised myself I would heal him._

The words are a hovering memory, thoughts that haunt every frantic step she takes as she stumbles farther and farther away. They wrap around her like tendrils of fire, licking, burning, scorching, and she cannot help but whimper in pain.

Her mind is a jumbled mess of grief and shock. She can hardly see through her tears, but she knows that she is moving away from _there_, away from that nest of horror. Her balance fails her, and she comes to a stop before she can topple over. Warm hands around her arms. A comforting voice over her head.

Orihime wants none of it.

"Stop," she gasps, and wipes furiously at her stinging eyes. "Stop."

"Alright, Inoue," the voice says. She blinks away the haze and finds herself looking up into Kurosaki-kun's concerned face. He sees the pain in her eyes. Something dark and angry flashes across his face and he looks back, towards the Maggot's Nest. She knows without saying that he is about to break away from her, march right back through the hallways, and give Ishida-kun a piece of his roiling mind.

The thought of her friends fighting strikes a fresh streak of pain through her quivering body. Kurosaki-kun blinks, his anger fading, and turns back to consider her.

"Let's go back to your room," he suggests, and his warm, firm grip is tugging her, pulling her down the road.

She does not turn around. Nodding, the tears cool and sharp down her cheeks, she gives in, and allows him to take her.

* * *

Where is she now?

Orihime can hear the worried murmurs outside her closed door and shuts them out. She sits balanced on her heels inside her room, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her puffy, reddened eyes staring unseeingly ahead.

Ishida-kun's voice is still in her head.

"_I killed them."_

There are no tears for her to spill. She shakes her head in denial.

Where does she stand now? What should she do?  
_"I took an oath to protect human life, innocent life, not…"_

The anguish in his voice, in the twisted suffering of his gaze, is so real she can feel it sliding against her skin, cutting deeper than any blade, even now.

"_It doesn't matter if it was an accident."_

Yes it does, she wants to cry out. Yes it does!

But she knows it doesn't. Not to the _shinigami_.

_What do I do now?_

"…just no way she can go back in there," a woman's voice says from outside the room. "This really isn't helping her recuperate at all."

"I know, I know." Kurosaki-kun sounds irritated and jaded and guilty all at the same time. Orihime closes her eyes, as if this will help block out the sounds.

"But…you don't know what will happen to her if she can't see him anymore. Remember what happened when we wouldn't let her visit?"

"Oh, and you think that what she's going through now is _better_ than before?"

"No! I just…let her have a say in it. Maybe you're right, maybe she won't want to see him again. But I saw how happy she looked when she was in there, even if it only lasted for a little while. And I know what will happen if we don't let her decide for herself. So don't tell your commander yet. Just wait."

Orihime nods her head in agreement and lies down on her mat, her folded hands a harsh pillow. Sleep. She needs sleep.

_Just wait. Then I'll know what to do._

* * *

Her dreams are dead. A void fills her head while she slumbers, blackness in front of her, in back of her, to her sides. Solid blackness all around.

She sleeps all the more peacefully because of it.

* * *

Orihime opens her eyes. She is lying on her back; she must have shifted some time during the night. The firm ceiling above her is comforting and crippling in its familiarity.

She would give anything to be anywhere else. Two weeks ago, long before Rukia had been kidnapped, would be nice…no _shinigami_, no killing, no suffering.

Her muscles feel limp with worry and misery. But Mourning is no stranger to Orihime, nor she to it; she understands that if she does not rise now, she will be perfectly content with lying in bed all day, burying herself in pity.

She huffs a short breath, picks herself up from the floor, and rubs the sleep from her glazed eyes. One of the pins in her hair slips down a golden-orange strand. She takes it in her hand, gazes at it. If not for this little pin, half the twelfth division might be alive right now, breathing, laughing, _living_. And Ishida-kun would be dead.

Orihime shakes her head furiously and puts the pin back in her hair with a sudden forcefulness. _No_. Whatever Ishida-kun does, he does _not_ deserve death. Even if the whole world tells her so.

The first hesitant rays of sunshine are filtering in through her walls. Orihime goes to the side door, not wanting to be faced with anyone just yet, and steps through. Her room is only one of four that surround a tiny garden. A miniature pool sits between impeccably-arranged bushes and moss, a single reed-thin tree sprouting up around smooth river stones. Orihime thinks that this little spot, a small island among the sorrow-ridden rooms of the Fourth, might be one of the most scenic parts of the Seireitei. Rushing through Soul Society with Ishida-kun, she has not seen anything like it. The _shinigami_ strike her as a strictly military-like people, dedicated to war and battle and other things that make her stomach twist. The Fourth is her safe haven. One step outside its bounds, and she is plunged back into strife and duty.

She can think here.

Orihime is glad to see that no one else has come to visit the little island so early in the morning. She comes forward on bare feet, fighting the urge to sit and rest her weary head. If she does not occupy herself, she will slip back into the abyss that threatens to swallow her up even now.

She crouches down by the small pond, her feet balanced beneath her, her pale hands resting on her bent knees. Her reflection stares back at her. Even illuminated by the bright, fresh rays of sunlight, her face looks haggard. She has never been particularly dark-skinned, but the pallor that taints her skin is anything but healthy. The purple circles beneath her darkened eyes are something she has already become accustomed to. Her cheeks are hollow from her recent hunger strike and the stress clinging to her like a second skin.

And then there is the scar. Horrible, it slashes across her throat like the result of an angry artist's brushstroke. She tries not to look at it. The memory of Ishida-kun's hands on her neck is still too vivid for her to face.

Orihime lifts a single finger and pokes at her cheek. The reflection does the same, but she can't help but think that this person staring back at her is a complete and total stranger.

Ishida-kun has changed. There is a darkness lurking inside of him, a cruelty that surfaced when he gripped her throat in his swift-moving hands. He has a slender build, but ever since he was locked away, it seems he is more frail than fit. Like he would break if bent the wrong way, even a little bit. He looks…weak. And the dullness in his eyes…she hates that most of all. Indifference. Listlessness. Apathy towards his own doom. She hates it.

And now she hates it even more, because she can see it staring at her through her own guilt-darkened eyes.

"What am I doing?" she whispers to her reflection.

There is no reply.

* * *

Orihime drifts through the halls of the Fourth like a ghost. She wants to do something with herself. She tries to help sew clothes or blankets. It only reminds her of Ishida-kun. Unohana tries to teach her to cook. It is a useless effort. She heals those who need it, and for a short while, it works as a good distraction. And then too many people come to her, for the littlest things: a scrape on the knee, a paper-cut, a bruised elbow.

Eventually, Orihime claims illness and takes to her room again for a day. Guilt comes up on her like a patient predator. She gets up, leaves, but pretends not to hear the calls for assistance.

Something tells her that Ishida-kun is not the only one who has changed.

So Orihime wanders, and wavers, and wonders when she will wake up.

* * *

Kurosaki-kun is the one to do it.

The firm reality of his insistent voice grounds her. When she asks for solitude, he refuses to give it to her. He says that she is wasting away. If she's not careful, she really will become the ghost she feels she is.

She tells him it's not true. She doesn't feel like a ghost at all — she can still touch him, can't she?

His silent frown is answer enough. Orihime trembles, teetering between acceptance and the abyss. Kurosaki-kun speaks, shouts, murmurs. What happened to the perpetual smile on her face? Why doesn't she talk about rocket ships or pink and purple aliens anymore? _Where is she_?

…What would Ishida-kun think? What would Tatsuki and Sora think?

Orihime wakes up.

* * *

"I'm going to go see him again."

_I promised._

Kurosaki-kun doesn't say anything at first. He looks at her closely, making her flush with nervousness, and finally smiles. His hand descends on her head. Pat, pat.

"Good for you, Inoue."

* * *

There is one more thing to do before she leaves. One more matter that she must confront before she can confront the cause himself.

Kurosaki-kun has brought her to the Eleventh Division. They were met with questioning and bouts of suspicion, but Unohana's word is strong and bent the men's mistrust to her will. Now, Orihime stands upon the steps of a wooden building, fidgeting. She wonders if she should knock. What if this is not the right building? The divisions in the Seireitei are so extensive, she could go looking for this man for hours and never find him…

An inquisitive, abrasive voice speaks behind them.

"Who're you?"

Orihime whirls to see the exact man she is searching for staring at them with curiosity in his dark eyes. His gaze goes from Kurosaki-kun to her. Recognition flares to life, and he lifts a single, thick finger to point into her startled face.

"Hey, I remember you! You're that girl who bit me!"

Her face comes alive with heat and embarrassment. She has forgotten about that.

Orihime ducks her head, her hands folded apologetically in front of her. "I am sorry, Makizou-san. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted you to put me down."

He regards her silently with a frown and lowers his hand. "So you remember," he says with a solemnity that was not there in his previous words. Orihime nods again. How could she forget about him? This is the man who, however unwelcome the effort was, tried to help her escape from the twelfth division captain. Aramaki Makizou. Makimaki, he said. Though how she recalls these details, she doesn't know.

"Yes, sir. I remember."

His eyes drift over her features, his eyebrows furrowing at the sound of her ragged, half-whisper voice. "What happened to your voice?"

Orihime bites her lip and stares at her feet. She can feel his gaze go to the scar on her throat. He sucks in a rapid breath.

"Oh. That's right. Here, uhh…let's go inside."

The interior of the building is plain but not empty, just as Orihime imagined it might be. These _shinigami_ have no need for extravagance or luxury. From what she has heard from the Fourth physicians, they thrive on battle and the thrill of the fight, and as long as they have that, they are content.

She follows Kurosaki-kun inside and sits uneasily on the floor when Makizou-san gestures for her to do so. Kurosaki-kun remains standing, folds his arms, and looks away with a bored expression.

Makizou-san sits down with a heaving sigh and rests his hands in his lap. "So," he says seriously, "you lived."

Orihime looks up at him with wide eyes. "Y-yes."

A rough smirk crosses the _shinigami's_ broad face. "Well, I can't say I didn't expect you to, but with the way those Fourth-division wimps were talking, it looked like you wouldn't last the night. To lose such a delicate flower…so tragic…"

Orihime is suddenly aware of a blush creeping across her face. Makizou-san looks behind her, pales, and clears his throat. When Orihime glances around, she only sees Kurosaki-kun.

"Anyway…err, I thought you might really be done for. I myself didn't have it too good, actually. But Unohana-taichou patched me up, and —"

"Wait," Orihime interrupts. "Excuse me, Makizou-san, but…"

Makizou-san blinks at her, thrown off by the interruption, but quickly regains his footing. "Oh! Well, that was rude of me. I didn't even ask what you came here for. Err…what _did_ you come here for?"  
"I wanted to know…if you remember what happened that night. When…when Ishida-kun…"

The _shinigami_ raises a hand and scratches thoughtfully at his hair. "Well. To be honest, I don't really remember much after a certain point. I think it was right after I knocked you out — which was an accident — that I remember just feeling this giant burst of _reiatsu_. I don't know who it came from, but I know it originated somewhere around where we left your friend with the glasses and Kurotsuchi-taichou. I turned around, and before I could move there was this wave of white light heading right fore me. I tried to run, but the next thing I remember, something slashed into my back and, well…I blacked out after that."

Orihime leans back on her bottom, trying not to let her emotions show on her face. She knows that the white light was Ishida-kun's power raging out of control. Before she can say anything else, Makizou-san is talking again.

"I came to a little while after that. Everything was kinda blurry, so I can't spare any real details, but…I think I dropped you. Yeah, I did. I was lying on my stomach, my back hurting like you wouldn't believe, and you were…you were there, right next to me, and there was…blood. Everywhere. I think…it was because of the way I was holding you that you got hit in the throat. I had you over my shoulder, but facing up, and when that wave came…I guess it was just bad luck."

Bad luck. The words ring in Orihime's ears like a death knell. It was just "bad luck" that her throat had been cut so deeply she nearly lost the ability to speak. Just "bad luck" that Ishida-kun is locked away where only the worst criminals go, the first in line for execution by the people he hates most…

"And that kid was there. The kid with the glasses."

Orihime's head jerks up. Makizou-san has a perplexed expression on his face, as if he can't understand how Ishida-kun could be there.

"He looked all out of it. Scorch marks and blood on his face and clothes, this frantic look on his face…and he was muttering under his breath. I think he was trying to save your life. He was bent over you and kept holding his sleeves and stuff to your throat, to stop the blood."

Orihime cannot move. She has heard that Ishida-kun tried to save her life, but the fact that he did so while he had injuries of his own…injuries that she should have been able to heal for him…

"And then I passed out again," says Makizou-san. "Next time I woke up, I was in the Fourth, having my back bandaged up."

There is a long silence after this. Orihime's thoughts are a wild, tangled mess, choking any coherent thought before it can reach her lips.

_Ishida-kun…he was wounded, and he still…he stayed. He stayed with me and waited for someone to come, even though he knew he would get caught. He knew they would find out it was him. And…now he's…_

Her hands curl into shaking fists and she holds back the tears with a gargantuan effort. She won't cry. Not now. She's through mourning. Ishida-kun doomed himself to keep her alive. And she fled from him, just like everyone else.

The urge to leap to her feet and sprint the rest of the way to the Maggot's Nest is almost overwhelming. But somehow, Orihime reminds herself to be polite. To be strong. She forces herself to smile.

"Thank you, Makizou-san," she murmurs. "I think…I think I should go now, though."

Surprise appears on his broad face. "Wait…you don't want to know what he was saying?"

She hesitates, and Makizou-san takes it as agreement.

"He was talking to you. Kept saying your name over and over, asking you to stay, sayin' he was sorry, and I think he called out to the gods a couple times, but…" He gives an awkward laugh. "I wasn't even half awake then, so I might be wrong."

Again, Orihime finds herself robbed of the ability to speak. Her tongue trips over herself, her jaw opening and closing noiselessly. Kurosaki-kun's hands press down on her shoulders.

"Inoue? We should go."

She finds herself being led back to the door by Kurosaki-kun's guiding grip. Halfway out the doorway, she stops and looks back at Makizou-san, who is still sitting on the floor.

"Your back," she says timidly, "is it…better?"

Makizou-san looks surprised at first, as if wondering why she would be concerned for him — then his features relax into an easy smile, and he nods. "Yeah. Yeah, it is. Thanks for asking."  
Orihime smiles weakly, and, Kurosaki-kun's hands dropping from her shoulders, steps out the door.

* * *

The hallways of the Maggot's Nest are beginning to give Orihime a stomach ache every time she enters them. It is a process: her head starts to get dizzy, then the dizziness becomes knots in her chest and a racing heart, and the knots trickle down into her stomach and swirl around and around and around, and her stomach roils and tilts and Orihime is left feeling sick.

Kurosaki-kun gives her quick glances whenever he thinks she is not looking. She knows that he is concerned for how she will react to seeing Ishida-kun again and so resists the urge to double over and clutch her middle.

Their footsteps are the only sounds that penetrate the various bone-chilling noises that echo along the walls. No one is accompanying them today; this is a surprise visit, and though Orihime knows the _shinigami_ will not approve, she can't stand the thought of being watched while she is with Ishida-kun. She will have to ask Kurosaki-kun to stay outside this time. After her last visit, the thought of being alone in a prison cell with Ishida-kun is…unnerving. In her heart, she trusts that she will be safe. But her mind isn't quite so sure.

Her thoughts wander like will-less mourners. What will she say to him? How can she get him to trust her again?

…Will he look at her with those glazed, deadened eyes again, or will there be more of him in his gaze?

Kurosaki-kun stops walking. Orihime bumps into him and backs away, too dazed to even apologize. They are here. She does not even know how Kurosaki-kun memorized the way to Ishida-kun's cell, but he must have. There is no one to guide them here.

Orihime can't be sure why it is that every time she comes to stand before this door, she becomes unsure of herself. Her stomach ache is more than just uncomfortable now, and her feet are itching to turn the other way and wait just one more day, just twenty-four more hours to get her thoughts straight…

But she can't. Because Ishida-kun ended his life for her, and if she walks away now, any chance of saving him that she has might slip through her fingers.

Swallowing, Orihime braces herself and reaches to open the door.

Kurosaki-kun's restraining arm stops her before she can touch the iron handle.

Her agitated gaze flies to him in an instant. He pushes her away from the door, gently, and lays his own hand on the handle.

"Let me talk to him first," he says.

Orihime curls her toes and nods hesitantly. She watches as Kurosaki-kun opens the door and slips in, almost flinching when it closes behind him. What could he possibly want to say to Ishida-kun?

Indecision lasts for only a second. A moment later, Orihime is on her tip-toes, trying to get her ear as close to the tiny window in the door as possible.

She hears them.

_"Hey. Ishida."  
_Silence for a moment, and then…movement from inside. Ishida-kun heaves an irritated sigh.

_"Kurosaki. What are — "_

_"I'm here because you're acting like an idiot."_

Orihime's eyes fly wide open. _Kurosaki-kun?!_

Ishida-kun's anger matches her shock. It seems if anyone can snap him out of a stupor, it's Kurosaki-kun. _"How dare —"_

_"How dare I? I don't dare do anything," _Kurosaki-kun says, his voice brimming with smugness. _"I'm just stating facts."_

_"If all you're going to do is stand there and insult me, Kurosaki…"_

_"I don't mean to insult you, _Ishida_. Really. That's not what I'm here for."_

_"Really. Why _are_ you here, then?"_

A pause. _"I'm here for Inoue."_

Orihime sucks in her breath and holds it. It is absolute silence inside the cell.

_"…She's here," _Ishida-kun says. It's not a question.

_"Yeah. She wanted to come in first, but I told her I wanted to talk to you before."_

_"Hmm? And why is she back here? Wasn't last time enough for her?"_

A terribly familiar bitterness enters Ishida-kun's voice. Orihime feels her face wrinkle with hurt; it seems as if he only holds that dark, hopeless tone whenever she enters a conversation.

_"See, that's what I wanted to talk to you about, Ishida. That's what I mean when I say you're acting like an idiot. Oh, shut up and let me talk! Look. I know you're going through something huge right now. I can't even start to imagine what you're feeling. But that doesn't mean you can just scare Inoue off like that. She only wants to help you, dammit! That's the only reason I haven't spoken up until now, because I thought you would let her help, and if I interfered I'd only screw things up. Do you know how hard she's trying? I've been with her for the past month, and ever since she got her voice back, you're all she ever talks about. You should have seen her when she last left here. I've never seen her so upset. It was like she wasn't even Inoue anymore — she told me she felt like a ghost. A ghost, Ishida! Because you wouldn't let her help you!"_

_"Well, it doesn't seem like she's trying very hard!" _Ishida-kun bursts out in a desperate voice. _"I say a couple things to her and she breaks down and runs out of here, just like everyone else, like she can't stand to be around me."_

There is no time to cry out in grief or betrayal — Kurosaki-kun is speaking as if he sees red.

_"A couple things! Ishida, you _crushed_ her. And then you nearly strangled her!"_

_"I wasn't going to do anything, and you know it! Why would I hurt her, Kurosaki? Why? When I've already done so much…"_

Orihime clutches her hands to her mouth to stifle her frantic, wounded breaths. Quiet falls over the prison cell again before anyone begins to talk.

_"So that's what this is about. Ha! I should have known. Ishida, like Inoue said, you're a good guy. But you've got a guilt complex the size of Japan and then some!"  
_Ishida-kun splutters_. "Kurosaki, I killed —"_

_"I know. I had to listen to you a couple days ago while you kept repeating that, remember? And I'm not asking you to get over that yet. I know you're still suffering, so I'll leave that to you. But, Ishida, I know what you're doing."  
"What am I doing, Kurosaki?"_

The weariness in Ishida-kun's voice takes Orihime off guard, and Kurosaki-kun must feel the same, because when he speaks again, his voice is considerably softer.

_"You're trying to push her away."_

Orihime is eternally grateful that Ishida-kun pulls in a loud, painful, hissing breath at this moment, because she cannot stop the gasp that escapes from her lips.

_"I cut her throat open," _Ishida-kun gasps brokenly._ "I…I fought by her side, she saved my life, and I…I just don't want to hurt her anymore."_

_"You're hurting her now."_

_"What do you want me to do, Kurosaki?" _Ishida-kun asks angrily. _"Allow her to get close to me again? My execution is in less than two weeks! My _execution_, Kurosaki! You think I won't be hurting her when I die at the hands of a hundred vengeful _shinigami_?"_

Red copper seeps into the corners of Orihime's mouth. She has bitten her tongue so hard to keep the sorrowful cries in that her teeth have drawn blood.

_"We're not going to let them execute you, Ishida. We're going to save both you and Rukia."_

_"Hah," _scoffs Ishida-kun, but he doesn't say anything more.

Kurosaki-kun lets out another sigh. _"Ishida. I swear…we _will_ save you. Whether you want us to or not. But…you have to stop pushing Inoue away. She's the only one who can help you."_

Orihime hears footsteps on the other side of the door and manages to jump away to the opposite wall before it opens. She lowers her hands to her sides and blinks her eyes as quickly as she can, hoping that they are not red. Before he opens the door, Kurosaki-kun stops and speaks to Ishida-kun again.

_"Oh…and you might want to let her heal your arm. Because, honestly, I can't save you if you die of infection before."_

The door swings open with a click and a creak, and Kurosaki-kun is standing there, looking at her with an amused look on his face. He closes the door behind him and jerks a thumb over his shoulder.

"Go on," he says smoothly, "I'm finished with him."  
Orihime feels a watery smile come to her face and wipes away a stray tear. "Thank you, Kurosaki-kun," she laughs quietly.

He shrugs, looking nonchalant, and she knows she is welcome.

Taking in a steadying breath, Orihime steps forward, and opens the door.

* * *

A/N: _There is a half-truth in every chapter. Usually, they come near the end. Care to guess what this one's is?_

**nikcik: **Your review literally left me nearly bouncing with joy. Honestly, you managed to pick out some of the more subtle things in this fic that most people haven't commented on yet. That's great! There will definitely be more to this story - at least four or five more chapters, I'm thinking, though it will probably turn out to be more. Oftentimes I find more juicy little tidbits to add in before I close a story. And I'm very relieved to hear that this isn't boring at all; it's something I dread ever happening. I actually think Inoue is really introspective; Tite Kubo has shown us this side of her more than once in his manga. All I'm doing is delving into that. Understanding that Ishida has been drastically changed by the events is also something I'd like to thank you for. That's one of the main points of this story; but I can't tell you more than that, because that would spoil it. ;) As you can see by this chapter, Kurosaki had a reason for keeping quiet. And you were right - he's not one to stay passive for very long at all.

Thanks for your lovely review, and I hope to see you again with later chapters!

_Reviews are better fuel than a good night's sleep and food. Please leave a comment - it keeps me awake and writing._

_-_Kimsa


	4. Soul

I apologize for the wait - the outdoors beckoned.

Anyway...a shout out is needed for all you wonderful, wonderful people! Thank you for reviewing: **lalala, Sheepsama13, Zack Zeon, bloodandpepper, UryuxOrihime11693, Itachi'sNailPolish, kurou-chan, Bre,** and **Blackrose2005. **You're all amazing.

**lalala, Zack Zeon, Bre: **your review replies are at the end of the chapter.

Not much Kurosaki in this chapter, but...I wanted to focus on Ishida and Orihime.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. But sharing is caring, yes? No? Oh well.

* * *

_Half-Truths_

_- Soul -_

* * *

Ishida-kun's first words are "You were listening."  
Try as she might, Orihime cannot bring herself to feel surprise. Some part of her acknowledges that even now, buried beneath guilt and sorrow and inner torment, Ishida-kun is impossibly perceptive. He probably knew she was eavesdropping the minute she pressed her ear to the door's miniature window.

_Why didn't he say something? Why did he let me hear everything?_

There is no answer for her unspoken questions. He is watching her with a quiet intensity that pierces her through the cell bars, as though the barrier is not there at all, and they are equal, facing each other alone in this realm of death and life. Warm shivers skitter nervously down her back. There is something different in his gaze, something that makes her quail and shudder and rejoice all at the same time. Orihime is suddenly glad for the bars between them.

"Yes," she says, and slowly lowers herself to sit in front of him. The confrontation with Kurosaki-kun has brought him to his feet, and he stands there, his thin lips twitching as if uncertain of what to tell her. Orihime forces herself to breathe normally.

Finally, noiselessly, he joins her on the floor. Orihime's breath comes out in a long rush and she ducks her head, embarrassed. Never mind that his movements are stiff and tense, as if he does not trust her at all. Never mind that a moment ago it seemed as if he might lash out at her for spying on him, for leaving him when he most needed her, for failing him and abandoning him to his fate, the fate he chose to save _her_. In that single movement, Orihime sees Ishida-kun giving her a chance to heal him. Her face lights up in a hopeful smile.

"I, ah…wanted to say sorry for running earlier," she murmurs to him. "I made a…a promise to myself that I would help you. But I don't think that I started off very well." She gives a nervous little laugh at his silence. "I…I'm sorry I left you. I called you my friend, but I guess I didn't really act like one, huh?"

His hard, hostile stare softens at her apologetic words, and he places his hands on his knees in a relaxed gesture. Orihime feels something loosen in her chest.

"No, you did," says Ishida-kun quietly. "You were trying, Inoue-san. It…I was the one who ruined everything."

Orihime shakes her head hastily. "No, no, you're mourning and I couldn't understand. I should have been more supportive. Instead, I went and ran away from you when I should have stayed. I'm sorry, Ishida-kun. I'm sorry."

There is a smile on his lips, but it holds nothing of mirth or happiness. "Looks like neither of us can stop apologizing."

She does not know if she should laugh at that, but she does. It sounds weak, even to her, and she winces. "Um…yeah. I guess we can't."

Awkward. That is the only word she can attach to the silence that falls over them like an itchy, suffocating blanket. She shifts uncomfortably and stares down at her hands in her lap. Five fingers. Peach-colored. Unremarkable.

But she's going to use them to heal, and this, all of _this_, is getting them nowhere.

"Can we…" Orihime sucks in a steadying breath and forces herself to look Ishida-kun in the eye. "Can we start over, Ishida-kun?"

It sounds so odd, hanging in the stale air with all the fragile hope of an unaccepted handshake.

_Say something, _she thinks at Ishida-kun's passive face. _Please?_

Slowly, like a toddler taking its first tentative steps, he nods and looks at her with eyes marred by shame and the tiniest spark of hope. Orihime sits back as an inexplicable exhaustion fills her. She cannot help but sigh in relief.

Kurosaki-kun, despite having once been enemies with him, seems to have gotten through to Ishida-kun.

"Now," she says, her gaze going to the long-dried blood staining the sleeve of Ishida-kun's uniform, "will you…let me heal that?"

Ishida-kun blinks, surprised by the turn of conversation, but he gets up and moves closer to her without any complaint. Orihime does not ask him to reach his arm through the bars; she can see that he is in pain, even if his stoic expression belies nothing. The comforting glow of her healing aura appears and swallows the wound whole. She can see the sickly signs of infection growing around the split skin and worry stains her tongue. She dares not raise her eyes; she can feel Ishida-kun's gaze on the top of her lowered head.

"Did the guards give this to you?"

The question is out before she can curb her morbid curiosity into submission. Orihime winces, but does not take it back; she refuses to harbor regrets so early into the earning of forgiveness.

Ishida-kun does not speak for a moment, and when he does, his voice is cool, emotionless, indifferent. "…Yes."

"Oh." Orihime's teeth gnaw thoughtfully at her lower lip. The injury's infection draws out the healing process, and she can see the jagged edges coming back together as if pulled by an invisible sewing needle. "Umm. You're not hurt anywhere else, are you?" _Besides in your mind and soul?_

"No," Ishida-kun replies. "The wounds from the fight have been bandaged and are already healing."

"You don't want me to heal those too?"

She looks up, finished healing, to see his jaw tighten. This close to him, she can see the glint of fever in his dark eyes.

"No."

He is punishing himself, Orihime realizes. This is just another way for him to atone for his sins. And no matter how much she aches to see him hurt, she knows that if she takes this from him, the trust that is growing between them will be stunted and die.

Her hands draw back into her lap. She wonders if she should ask about the fever, but Ishida-kun does not look like he is very sick. He is not shivering or pale with illness (merely with remorse) and his chest is quiet, without the beginnings of a cough. Orihime dips her head and smiles at the new, unblemished skin she has created and soaks up his grateful nod.

_Thank you, Ishida-kun. Thank you for trusting me again._

* * *

_"Any more news on the _ryoka_?"_

_"Hmm? Which one?"_

_"The one in prison, you idiot."_

_"Shut up! There are four, you know."_

_"Is there news or not?"_

_"…Yeah. Heard the execution's been moved up."_

_"Really? How many more days?"_

_"I'm not sure, but it can't be much more than a week. Wonder how the girl's taking it…"_

_"They're still letting her see him?"_

_"Yes. They say it's imperative that they have his cooperation."_

_"Cooperation…it's already been more than a month since he went in. There's probably nothing left of him to cooperate _with_, and if that little girl thinks she can help him…hah. I pity her."_

* * *

She moves with purpose.

Everything, from the smallest _shinigami_ child to the very air around her, seems to glow with a certain light that she's sure has nothing to do with the sun's rays. Kurosaki-kun's ever-present scowl is endearing, Unohana's calm, careful persistence is caring, and Hanatarou's shy stuttering does not weary her anymore. She eats with zeal, feeling free to experiment with new foods and spices, and it doesn't hurt to see the thinly veiled disgust on her physicians' faces when she introduces them to one of her dishes.

It has only been a day since Ishida-kun began to forgive her. And yet, it feels so much, much longer.

* * *

"I thought I'd bring you lunch."

Ishida-kun eyes the harmless-looking food suspiciously. Orihime watches him with a mischievous glint in her gaze and a trembling smile on her lips. It is all she can do to keep the bright laughter in — she can see that he still remembers her cooking endeavors with less-than-fond feelings.

"It's noodles," she announces simply. "With an apple and a sweet bun. Hanatarou packed it for you."

"Hanatarou?" Ishida-kun repeats absently. He is staring at the food as if waiting for it to vanish, and Orihime is suddenly reminded of the animalistic hunger in his eyes when she brought him the sugared plum.

"Yes," she says quietly. "One of my friends from the Fourth."

The food, wrapped loosely in clean white cotton, is slid through the cell bars. Ishida-kun's hand shakes almost imperceptibly when he moves to pick the apple up. He bites slowly, lovingly, as if it is the sweetest thing on Earth and he is a starving man. Orihime watches him chew carefully for a minute, nothing the way his arm trembles, as if he wishes to shove the entire fruit into his mouth. She turns around to fetch the cup of water she brought with her.

"I thought you might like some water," she murmurs, swiveling back to face him, "but if you want, I can bring…something else…"

Only a portion of the apple's flesh remains. Ishida-kun pauses, juice running down his chin and his mouth moving awkwardly to chew through the fruit. He looks at the core in his hand, swallows thickly twice, and looks off to the side. Embarrassment and mortification rise hot in his cheeks. The end of one filthy sleeve rises to wipe away the sweet juice making its way towards his jaw line.

"Ishida-kun," Orihime calls, and his name is a hoarse whisper. He looks at her then, his thin mouth twisted in shamed misery.

"You don't have to be polite with me," she says. "Go ahead. It's only me. I won't tell anyone."

Stillness. And then he is lunging forward, like a starving beast, and his hands are darting to the food, and the noodles are disappearing messily into his wide-open mouth, and he is nearly choking on it all but he won't stop, won't stop even when the sweet bun is gone and the apple stripped to its very core, and the water is downed, splashing onto his dirty face and neck, and finally, suddenly, he stops, and it is finished.

Revulsion floods Orihime's stomach and she is almost sick. To see Ishida-kun reduced to this…how can anyone be so cruel? Don't they feed him? She has never been more repulsed by humanity in her life, and it scares her to feel this way, to look upon the fury and self-hatred on Ishida-kun's face and curse the people who did this to him.

Ishida-kun's flushed body suddenly shudders. Orihime presses against the bars in worry, her heart jumping in her chest. "Ishida-kun? What's —?"

His head twitches to the side — _no — _and his hand jerks up to his mouth. Whatever color humiliation has brought to his face drains away. In one pained movement, he turns, and is sick on the floor.

Orihime kneels, frozen in shock and concern and vague disgust, but cannot turn her head. It is only when Ishida-kun finishes (and it is over quick; there was barely anything in his stomach to begin with) and wipes the sick from his lips that she manages to avert her gaze. He lets out an angry hiss.

"Stupid," he snarls. Orihime jumps, thinking he means her, but he is glaring at his own shivering hands.

He shudders again and draws in on himself. She can see him retreating further into the detached façade the Maggot's Nest has made of him, and her eyes crease in sorrow.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Inoue-san. That was…incredibly stupid of me."

Orihime shakes her head as he grimaces and moves to wipe the sick up with the cloth she brought.

"It's not your fault," she says quietly. "You were hungry."

"I should have known better," he insists relentlessly. There are hard lines around his mouth, lines of self-loathing, of disgrace and insecurity. Her hands twinge with the desire to reach out and smooth them away.

Ishida-kun pushes the cloth from him and pulls his legs in. Orihime's heart contracts at the dark look on his face and then she is leaning forward, all too aware of where they are, of who he is, of who he is in danger of becoming. Her hand touches his white-clad shoulder. Ishida-kun jerks at the gesture, a familiar, wary hostility entering his blue glare. Orihime smiles softly into his distrusting eyes and retreats. Perhaps not now. Maybe it is too soon to touch him.

"Next time," she says gently, "I'll bring something better for your stomach."

Quiet surprise in his deep azure eyes. The distrust fades into complacent neutrality, and he gives another of the silent nods he has become so fond of using.

For Orihime, that is thanks enough.

* * *

The blankets shift, clean and smooth like fabric glass, through her hands and she heaves a frustrated huff when they spill onto the floor. She does not drop the socks and sandals in her hands.

Unohana appears as if out of the air, and Orihime is mortified when she stoops to pick them up. They are back in her arms within moments, folded neatly.

"May I ask," the braided captain says curiously, "who those are for?"

Orihime beams brightly at her. "Ishida-kun. They didn't give him any where he is, and it can't be comfortable to walk around barefoot on stone, so…I figured it wouldn't hurt to bring some blankets and a pair of sandals."

Unohana merely hums, "hmm," and continues on her way, but there is something terribly sad in her movements. Later that day, Orihime would wonder if the kind-hearted captain knew the guards would refuse to let her give them to Ishida-kun.

* * *

The physician's mouth is pursed, her eyes narrowed, a severe expression plastered on her smooth face. "Open," she commands. Orihime's jaw falls obediently at the tone and the physician's cool fingers delve in, swab at her aching tongue with a strip of cloth, and retreat. It feels like having a dentist check up on her. Orihime bites her lip to keep the giggling in its place.

Brilliant blood stains the cloth in the physician's steady hand, and the _shinigami_ woman sighs. "Honestly," she snaps, "you'd think you didn't want to get out of here!"

She shakes her head and gives Orihime a worried look. "Inoue-san," she says wearily, "why do you push yourself?"

Her voice is quiet, apologetic, a child's tool. "He likes to hear my voice," she says simply, and the physician's hands are suddenly gentle.

* * *

She is learning more about him every day.

Progress is slow and painful. Ishida-kun was never very talkative before, and getting him to speak now is like coaxing a fox from its den with a flower; the bait is meaningless to him. Most of her attempts to draw words from his stubbornly sealed mouth make him retreat into himself like a hermit crab into its shell.

Sometimes, though, he opens up. Orihime begins to see that there are even more layers to this solitary Quincy than she once thought. Before their excursion into Soul Society, the things she knew about Ishida-kun could have fit on one hand. He was quiet, smart, liked to sew and hated _shinigami_, and was a bow-wielding Quincy. It wasn't as if she hadn't made an effort to get to know him; she had tried to talk to him, to make a friend out of this isolated boy, but when she hadn't received much success she had shrugged and ambled off to join her friends. Of course she had made an effort — that did not mean she had put her heart and soul into it.

Now, her heart is plagued by worry and her soul is battered, a plaything for chance and cruelty, and she pours both of them into exploring the uncharted maze that is Ishida-kun's psyche.

Finally, she begins to see — Ishida-kun is as self-sacrificing a person she ever knew. He blames himself for matters out of his control. It is _her_ health he thinks about, not his own. Asking for assistance or food or even clean clothes places too much of a burden on Orihime's shoulders; the bumps and bruises from his frequent…"punishments" at the hands of the jail-keepers are nothing — allowing Orihime to heal them and waste her precious energy would be incredibly selfish of him. And to shift his burdens on her would be unforgivable.

"But I _want_ you to give your burdens to me," Orihime insists persistently. "Let me help you."

Magic words. Wonderful, brilliant words. They always work. Orihime will never feel too guilty for turning them on Ishida-kun. Not when his wavering soul is at stake.

Ishida-kun stares at her in his usual silence and then, when it seems he will look away from her pleading eyes, he gives in.

* * *

Kurosaki-kun is antsy. He paces, moves edgily like a coiled spring, waiting to burst out of containment.

"What's wrong?" Orihime asks him. Maybe he's been spending too much time indoors lately.

He gives her an unreadable look out of the corner of his eye and mutters, "Just wondering when their hospitality will run out."

The next day, Orihime talks herself bloody again.

* * *

"My father is a doctor."

Doctor — a good, strong, steady job. Any other child with the knowledge of how excellent a position it is might say the words with a jolt of familial pride.

Ishida-kun does not.

"He's always said it was our duty to save human life. Life isn't something easily granted, and he considers it an insult that it can be taken away so easily. That's why he became a doctor, I think; that, and he makes a lot of money." His lips curl with disdain. "But of course, if he can't save someone, it's not a big loss. Things like that happen. No point in mourning the dead — we're all going to die eventually."

Orihime feels like she should say something. Ishida-kun is up and pacing, but now he has come to a slow stop. He glares at the floor as if wishing it a brutal and painful death.

"Hypocrite." Ishida-kun winces at the tremor in his half-whispered word and squares his thin shoulders. "He still mourns my mother."

Orihime holds her tongue between her teeth, worrying it till it is raw. A few more moments of silence and, certain that it is safe for her to speak, she sets free her tongue.

"My parents died when I was really little." She is sure that Ishida-kun might not be as much of a stranger to this news as she thought. There is no surprise in his guarded navy eyes, only sympathy as pale and faint as mist. "My brother took care of me. And then…he died too. And not too longer ago, he came back, and tried to kill me."

The shield around Ishida-kun's ever-wary soul flickers out of place, and the sympathy sharpens, sharp enough to slide effortlessly under her skin and make her fidget.

"Inoue-san…" Ishida-kun shivers and swivels his malnourished body until he faces her. Orihime is abruptly aware of how close he is and shifts nervously on her feet.

"He…was a Hollow?"

A short, fragile nod. She peers up at him to see his cautious gaze soften with comprehension.

"I'm sorry."  
One of his hands slides between the bars, and she feels his fingers cup her cheek. He is still looking at her with that odd expression in his gaze. She can feel light calluses brush her skin when one of his limber fingers slips.

There is no fear in her. She is not afraid of his touch, no matter how cruel it was previously. She does not fear this broken, caring person standing before her.

"I'm sorry," Ishida-kun murmurs again in a tortured whisper, and his hand is gone, and he is backing away from her with his shield firmly in place. Orihime can still feel his skin against hers, somehow, and is seized by the wild thought that she will never be able to forget it.

"Don't be."

And she has seen his soul.

* * *

"_Oy."_

_A long-suffering sigh. "What is it, Gin?"_

_"We have ourselves a meddler."_

* * *

_A/N: There is a half-truth in every chapter. Care to guess what this one's is?_

**lalala: **well, thank you for giving Ishihime a try! I'm glad I was able to show you how great this pairing is x). And as for the summary, it just came naturally - I wanted something that would grab readers' attention and give a hint of the tone of the story. As for the story itself...well, I do have the ending planned out, but I'm finding that I write best when I don't have a strict structure. I wanted an Ishihime that was dark and explored the characters' depths, but wouldn't drive readers off in despair or boredom. I guess I succeeded in my efforts. Thanks for reviewing, you have no idea how happy your comments made me! :D

**Zack Zeon: **really, really good? Thanks! Hope this chapter didn't disappoint in any way.

**Bre: **I most certainly will keep writing - definitely.

Again, thank you everyone for reviewing!

_Leave a review - tell me what you think! It's what keeps this story going._

-Kimsa


	5. Hellfire

Gah. Sorry this is so incredibly late. But a computer virus and school set in, and I really struggled with getting this chapter up to my satisfaction. It's a pretty long chappie, though, so I hope that will make up in part for the long wait.

**Zack Zeon, nikcik**: your guys' review replies are at the end of the chapter, as usual! And if I haven't replied to my faithful reviewers' comments, I will - I just wanted to get this chapter up as soon as possible.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. I'm just borrowing, but sharing is caring, yes? No? Oh well.

* * *

_Half-Truths_

_- Hellfire -_

* * *

Chad.

He stands are steady and unwavering as ever, a copper-skinned Colossus clothed in the bland white of a Fourth division patient. Orihime cannot see the smallest hint of weakness in him. Crazily, she wonders if her hand would break if she raised it against him.

"Chad." Kurosaki-kun steps past her with a shifting of death-colored robes and claps the other boy on the shoulder. "Finally decided to show up, eh?"

"We were starting to get worried," Orihime puts in, and flushes when Chad shifts at the strained sound of her roughened voice.

"I had a run-in with a captain," he replies smoothly.

Kurosaki-kun's face creases with distaste. "So did we."

"You met a captain, Ichigo?"

"Yeah, sadly. Zaraki Kenpachi. And Inoue met the twelfth division captain."

She cannot see Chad's eyes behind his wavy brown locks, but she can feel their scrutiny all the same.

"Where is Ishida?"

They are both thrown off by the question. Kurosaki-kun's hand ruffles his bright orange hair. Orihime bites her lower lip.

"Maybe," Kurosaki-kun says with a careful glance in her direction, "we should talk about somethin' else…"

"He's in jail," Orihime says bravely. She does not miss the way Kurosaki-kun's shoulders slump in defeat, and is startled to find her cheeks warming in irritation. She has been seeing Ishida-kun for several days now. Why does he think she needs protecting? Reality treats her with the same harsh hand as it does everyone else. Why doesn't Kurosaki-kun try to protect Ishida-kun instead?

_No, _she reprimands herself._ Kurosaki-kun is my friend. I won't think these things about him._

"Jail," Chad repeats solemnly. "So it's true, then."

"You've heard?" Kurosaki-kun asks in surprise.

Chad nods. "Rumors."

"Huh. Well…if you already know, I guess that makes explaining everything a little easier…"

Silence floats around them, thin and wavering, waiting to be broken by a single word. Orihime's feet shift beneath her, and she sends a glance towards the bright sun. Chad has chosen to arrive early in the morning, long before she usually leaves to visit Ishida-kun. Normally, she would not think of running off to the Maggot's Nest before noon. But she is not blind or stupid, and she knows what is hidden in the shifty glances Kurosaki-kun keeps sliding at her.

She is not wanted here.

Nor does she want to be here. Nowadays, being around Kurosaki-kun makes her feel…weak. Weak and limp and useless. Like Kurosaki-kun radiates so much power, she is cowed beneath his strength. His capability, his staunch confidence, drains her of the will to act, until she feels as if whatever problems she has, he will take care of it. There is no reason for her to act, when he will.

When did she start feeling this way?

Escape. She needs to be away, to breathe, to be with…

She drifts away without a word and takes the silence with her.

* * *

Ishida-kun is scowling at her when she comes in through the door.

He does not like to be vulnerable. Orihime knows this stretches far past the events of the last month, but his captivity has brought the insecurity to new heights. Her unexpected visit startles him from a light sleep, the creaking of the cell door sending him scrambling to his feet. A wince goes through her at the thought that she has robbed him of what he doesn't have enough of.

He scowls at her…but, at least it is not a glare.

"I'm sorry." She comes up to the bars and furrows her forehead in concern. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

A skinny hand crosses his face. When it drops back to his side, the scowl is gone, but a tense frown has taken its place. His shoulders rise and fall beneath his prison uniform.

"You're early," he says quietly.

Orihime nods at the question in his voice. "Chad came back today."

"He did?" Whatever leftover grogginess his eyes hold vanishes at the mention of their friend. He looks almost relieved.

"Yes. I left him with Kurosaki-kun."

"Hmph. Kurosaki." The scowl starts to creep back with a vengeance. Before it can fully form, Ishida-kun blinks and lifts an eyebrow at her in bewilderment. "Why aren't you back with them?"

Orihime raises her eyes to the cell's ceiling and ponders her answer. "I couldn't breathe," she answers.

That earns her an odd look and more than a little confusion, but Ishida-kun does not press the issue.

The silence is back again. Here it is a natural thing, an element that she would feel out of place with. Silence is comfortable. _How funny_, she wonders, _to think that once upon a time, it used to make me feel awkward._

Ishida-kun doesn't seem as content with the silence as she is. She watches him shift agitatedly, his gaze darting restlessly from her to the floor and the walls, and feels her own eyes go wide. Ishida-kun…is he…?

"Why," he growls, "don't you say something?"

Orihime blinks at him, and then blinks again. "Wh…huh?"

Ishida-kun sighs and gives her a withering look. "I just thought you'd have something to say, coming in this early."

"O-oh." She shakes her head slowly. Why did she come here, again? She can't remember…her thoughts drift through her mind like wispy clouds, coming apart whenever she tries to grasp them and regain her hold on reality.

Ishida-kun catches sight of her expression and moves forward, dark eyebrows drawing downward in worry.

"Inoue-san?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you even know why you're here?"

Her lashes touch her cheeks once, twice, three times, before she is able to focus her gaze on Ishida-kun's blue eyes. This close, she can see flecks of black in them, and shards of what she thinks might come close to purple. Her head spins with the effort of pushing her wandering thoughts into words.

"I'm here to see you," she says.

His lips turn down in a frown. He presses a dirty hand to her head suddenly, making her rock back on her heels. She stares up at him in shock. His touch jolts her back into alertness. The way he is gazing at her brings back a line of yesterday's words: _my father is a doctor. _She wonders — maybe he is more like his father than he realizes?

But she keeps her lips sealed shut. She does not think that he would appreciate that comment at all.

Ishida-kun draws back and gives her a quizzical stare. "You're not sick," he declares. "What is it, then? Have you been eating enough? Getting enough sleep?"

Orihime ducks her head at the last question. "Well…I didn't sleep very well last night."

She does not mention that it is because she spent the night staring up at the ceiling, trying to banish the worry that latched onto her thoughts like a leech. There are so many things to worry about. Ishida-kun, Kurosaki-kun, Kuchiki-san, Chad. How long the _shinigami_ will continue to offer asylum, the nightmares, how sometimes she will wake from a long sleep and not know where or who she is. How sometimes, she feels as if her visits with Ishida-kun are the only thing keeping her sane.

To her relief, Ishida-kun does not ask. He huffs a sigh of annoyance, shakes his head, but keeps his questions to himself. A moment later, he speaks.

"Go home, Inoue-san."

Orihime's head snaps up as if jerked by a puppet-master's string. Ishida-kun's face betrays no emotion. It is the same cold, guarded expression that he always wears. But the words…he wants her to go…home? What home? She has no home to go back to. Not without him.

"Home?" She repeats uncertainly.

Ishida-kun grimaces at her tone. "I meant the Fourth division."

"Oh."

One day, she thinks, she will simply chew her bottom lip off. "Can I…would it be alright if I stayed here?"

For a long, drawn moment, all Ishida-kun does is stare at her in surprise. Then he leans back, eyes and expression guarded like precious treasures, and lifts his shoulders nonchalantly. "If you want."

She does not mean to fall asleep. Ishida-kun expects her to stay and talk with him, and for a while, she does. But then, they hit a lapse and silence descends on soft wings, settling on her shoulders, relaxing her weary muscles, her frazzled mind. Orihime is leaning against the wall, her head turned towards Ishida-kun. He looks away. Her eyes drift shut once, open, then fall closed again…she'll just rest her eyes…and she is so, so tired…surely Ishida-kun won't mind if she takes just a little rest…

Consciousness slips in and out of her grasp like a slick eel. She wakes up once to find Ishida-kun frowning at the floor. Drowsiness dulls her reactions, making her feel like an underwater diver, and all she can do is smile fondly at Ishida-kun's familiar frown before drifting back into sleep again. The second time she wakes, Ishida-kun himself is asleep. She is more alert this time. She watches him breathe from where he is curled against the wall, his smooth face pressing against the cold iron bars of his cell, so close to her own bowed head. It takes all of her self-control not to reach out and ease him into a more comfortable position, and her fingers twitch once, but mostly she is content to watch him sleep.

He is different when he is in the realm of dreams…but not by much. The scowl lines brought on by anxiety and suffering are trapped across his face in still motion. She wonders if he will ever be free of them and raises a hand to her own brow, just to make sure they have not conquered her, as well.

Ishida-kun's breath tickles her cheeks in short, shallow puffs. Somehow, this comforts her. She feels safer than ever before, wrapped warmly in the knowledge that he is finally getting some rest.

Her mind falls under the fuzzy lull of sleep again and her eyes slide half-shut. Only half aware of the world around her, her unfocused gaze trails down his face, tracing the white-skinned forehead, the elegant nose, falling to lips slightly parted in unguarded sleep…

She feels light as a feather and warm and not entirely in her right mind. Her head dips forward in the smallest degree. She is floating. Safe, warm, floating, and she can finally breathe…and he's so close…she has only to lean forward just the tiniest bit and she can feel those lips for herself…

An errant strand of Ishida-kun's hair teases her cheek, so close is she to him. Before impulse can take over, she is asleep once more.

* * *

The sound of the prison door slamming open is what wakes her. Orihime jumps and automatically stills again, suddenly, inexplicably terrified. Her chest tightens until it is painful. She forces her eyes shut and tries to smooth out her expression and deepen her breathing. In front of her, she can feel Ishida-kun scrambling to get up and move away. The absence of his breath on her face causes something to lurch achingly in her chest.

"How's our favorite murderer today?"

Such a harsh, cruel voice that utters those words, words that cut into Orihime and make her heart flare with indignation. How many times must she explain to people that Ishida-kun is not a murderer?

Ishida-kun remains silent in reply to the guard's taunting. The _shinigami's_ firm steps come into the room and pause. Orihime's hair stands on end, goose-bumps marching across the back of her neck.

"She's got to go."

A finger touches the edge of her shoulder. Orihime keeps very still and prepares herself to move.

"Don't touch her!"

Ishida-kun's sudden outburst makes Orihime jump, but she thinks the _shinigami_ is so surprised by her friend's words that he does not notice. She makes sure to keep very, very still. Her eyes rove unseeingly beneath her closed lids. The air is filled with so much tension she is breathing it in. Her lungs sizzle and twinge.

"Whatever," the _shinigami_ finally grunts. "If you want her here, that's fine with me. It's not like you have much time left, anyway." Something falls to the floor with a clatter, its contents sloshing loudly onto the floor. "Here. Lunch."

Orihime takes in a deep breath of relief as the man's footsteps shuffle back towards the floor, and she nearly breaks her façade when he stops again.

"One more thing. The execution date's been moved up again. You have eight days."

The last four words are all it takes to bring her back to the room. Orihime opens her eyes, barely registering the click of the cell door as the guard pulls it shut. Ishida-kun is sitting very still, his long legs folded beneath him and his hands in his lap. He meets her eye challengingly, waiting to see how she'll react.

She doesn't know _how_ to react.

"Eight days," she repeats hollowly. "We have eight days?"

Ishida-kun frowns bitterly and clenches his hands into fists. "No. _I_ have eight days. You have a lifetime."

Her throat feels as if it is being clinched by a noose. "No. No, I don't," she gasps. "Not without you."

Surprise flickers through his gaze for a moment, chasing heat into her cold cheeks. Orihime has the sudden urge to look away, but she doesn't. Instead, she straightens herself so that she is kneeling in front of him and reaches her hands through the bars to grasp his. Ishida-kun hesitates for a moment. But he doesn't pull away. His hands are cold and covered with dirt, and holding someone's hand has never felt more natural before. Orihime only wishes she could give him more than brief comfort. She _needs_ to give him more.

"_We_ have eight days," she states firmly. Ishida-kun stares at her with blue-black eyes and says nothing.

"I'm going to heal you, Ishida-kun," she promises him. "I'm going to make you want to live again."

Finally, trustingly, he inclines his head.

* * *

There are so many things to remind him of. Sunshine, the feel of grass beneath his feet and the breeze all around him, the sound of the world going to sleep and coming awake, of hearing his friends laugh and simply _be_ with him.

How can she teach him all of this in eight days, when it takes one years to learn it in the first place?

Millennia. She needs millennia to turn back the pendulum. And she has eight days.

It will work. She's never been surer of herself.

"Kurosaki-san and Sado-san sure have been acting strange lately."

Orihime turns at the sound of Hantarou's voice and blinks at him in confusion. Most of the time, she is with Ishida-kun. She only comes back here to sleep and eat, or get food to bring to her charge. Hanatarou catches her in the street just as she is leaving again.

"What do you mean?" She murmurs.

"Don't you see it?" He looks up at her with wide, curious eyes. "They're always going off to do or talk about something. The physicians are starting to talk. They say that your friends are plotting something."

"Plotting?" Orihime tightens her grip on the food in her arms and lifts her eyes to the ceiling. What would Kurosaki-kun and Chad be plotting? They can't be. They would include her…right?

"Right," she says to herself. Then, to Hanatarou — "I'm sure it's nothing, Hanatarou-kun. Excuse me."

The seed of doubt has been planted, but the only thing on Orihime's mind is getting back to Ishida-kun. She hurries off to his cell and leaves Hanatarou to worry on his own.

* * *

"Remember," she says the next day, "remember, Ishida-kun, what freedom feels like?"

He sits with his back propped against the wall and gives her a solemn stare. She leans against the cell, so close that her shoulder presses against his. Orihime has grown bolder with touching him, though touching Ishida-kun is like approaching a wild cat. Ishida-kun moves his shoulder at her question. Hers lifts with the movement.

"Like the Real World," he says quietly. "Like when I wasn't…here. When my biggest problem was getting an A on that next test."

Orihime breathes in and out silently, slowly, blinking at the grime-encrusted wall opposite her. "You'll feel it again," she promises.

Ishida-kun doesn't reply for a while. Then, so quietly she can barely hear it beside her, there comes a whisper.

"Do _you_ remember what it feels like to be free?"

Her eyes flutter shut like butterfly wings and she lets her mind wander. When was the last time she felt free? A month ago? A year? A century?

His long-fingered hand lies next to hers behind the bars. She moves her finger a fraction and brushes one of his.

"Summer," she murmurs dreamily. "Autumn, winter, spring. The sun on my face and my friends all around me. Laughter. Happiness. And the right to be sad whenever I wanted to be, to be sad or upset about something that was so silly, I had no right to be upset about it."

Ishida-kun releases the shallow sigh as if it setting free a fading dove to the bright sky somewhere above them. "Freedom," he says almost inaudibly, "is the right to be human."

* * *

Kurosaki-kun and Chad. Never just Kurosaki-kun, or Chad, but Kurosaki-kun _and_ Chad. She sees them every now and then when she drops by the Fourth Division, and they are never apart. It's as if they've become brothers in a day, because it's only been twenty-four hours since Chad came back. They could be joined at the hip for all the times she's seen them together.

Orihime knows she should not worry. But they talk in hushed tones, their eyes shifting warily at every passing _shinigami_, and she cannot help but remember Hanatarou's words.

_"The physicians are staring to talk. They say your friends are plotting something."_

_Please, don't,_ Orihime tells them silently whenever she comes across them in the halls. _I can handle this. I have everything under control._

* * *

Six days left.

Today, she will make him smile.

Orihime strides down the hallways of the Maggot's Nest with an optimistic bounce in her step. In her hands, Ishida-kun's meal and a small bowl of water, the small, everday comforts she can and will gladly offer to him. Her sandals clap enthusiastically on the stone floor. A _shinigami_ walks past her in the hall and hands her a disapproving look, as if to ask how she dares to be happy in such a hellish place. The insanity in the Maggot's Nest is not to be smiled at. It is to be respected, feared, dreaded.

Yet she cannot push down the tiny spark in her chest, the flame that promises good things today. It puts a skip into her footfalls and cheer in her eyes.

Today, today, and not a day later, she will make him smile.

Orihime comes upon the door to his cell and stops, balancing the bowls and food in her arms. She has just laid her hand on the door handle when a shout from inside stops her.

Her heart jumps in her throat and goes absolutely still, listening for more. Lowered voices sift through the small barred window in the door, and though she can't make out the words, the malevolent warning in those tones set her hair on end. Suddenly desperate, Orihime twists the handle and shoves the door open. It slams against the adjacent wall with a heavy _thwack_, making the men inside the room swing around.

Stunned grey eyes take in the scene in seconds. The bars that have cut Ishida-kun off from her for so long have been opened, a gaping hole in one of the solid, hated realities of her life. Three _shinigami_ men are behind them, one standing with his arms folded tightly across his ebony-clad chest, the other two sitting back on thier heels. All three have turned to stare at her, expressions crushed between a mixture of surprise and anger. One of them has a knife in his hands. Blood on the blade. Blood on the floor. On...

Her fingers splay open. Food falls to the ground, the bowl colliding sharply with the ground, water splashing over the stones and her feet. Orihime's mouth gapes wide, closes, then opens again. A scream rises in her throat and suddenly bursts out, a high, wailing sound, neverending, and her body burns, burns like fire, like hellfire.

"No!" She runs forward and pushes past the first _shinigami_ when he tries to stop her. Her hands have a crazed mind of their own. When the other two men try to block her way, they reach out, crazily, something she would never, ever do, and shove them away from Ishida-kun's prone body. She hears them shout out in anger, but her attention is on her friend, the person dearest to her broken heart. Orihime reaches out and touches the side of Ishida-kun's face. Her shaking fingers come away sticky and wet with bright, crimson blood. Two azure eyes open, unfocused with pain.

Orihime's entire body trembles. For a moment all she can do is stare into that flickering gaze, and she sees all of her hard work hovering in the balance, about to tip into oblivion, because of three men's cruelty and hatred. The hellfire burns.

"Why?" Her voice comes out as a splintered whisper. "Why would you...do this?"

"He's a criminal," one of the men says after a pause. "This isn't anything he doesn't deserve."

"He deserves this?" One of her fingers traces a bloody line along the inside of Ishida-kun's arm. He does not even flinch as she skims the wound. "How could anyone deserve this?"

"He's a killer," another man spits. "A murderer. Of course he deserves this! He killed many _shinigami_!"

Orihime's head whips around, her neck twinging. "He didn't mean to! It wasn't...it..." The sentence breaks off before she can finish it. She is just so tired of explaining this over and over and over again, to every hate-filled _shinigami_ that she speaks to.

"Go away," she moans instead. "Just go away."

"Hey, you —" A man starts. A rustle of cloth and Orihime hears another one say, "Stop it. Let's go."

The footsteps recede towards the door and it clicks shut, leaving them in solitude and darkness. Orihime takes Ishida-kun's face in her hands, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay.

"I'm so sorry," she murmurs. "If I...I'm late today, aren't I? If I'd been earlier, I could have...stopped this. I'll never be late again, Ishida-kun, I promise, I swear. I'll never...never..."

Seven cuts in total, concentrated on his arms and face. The two on his face are deep enough to scar. And there is so much blood, on both of them, staining black and white cloth, marking them in equality. Orihime shudders. Her healing shield envelops them both. She watches as Ishida-kun lets her heal him so trustingly, her lips trembling with emotion. The blood vanishes stream by stream, broken flesh coming back together, future scars vanishing before they can cement their existence.

A teardrop falls before she can hold it back and lands on Ishida-kun's cheekbone. He blinks up at in her mild surprise. An apologetic smile tugs at her shaking lips, and the glowing shield surrounding them dissipates. Their breathing, hers hitching with restrained sobs and his nearly silent, fills the dungeon air.

"What," he says quietly, "are you apologizing for, Inoue-san?"

She blinks at the question. The tightens in her throat eases and she laughs nervously, suddenly realizing that this is the first time in over a month that there are no bars between them, nothing to separate them from each other. She draws back, giving him the space that she knows he probably needs. Ishida-kun raises himself to sit up without a word, but instead of moving away like she expects him to, he stays very still and looks her in the eye.

"You're still here," he says slowly. He sounds almost like he can't believe that she is sitting here in front of him, not giving up or running away.

Orihime says nothing for a moment. Then...

"I'll always be here."

Today, today she plans to make him smile. Today, she succeeds.

* * *

"Hanatarou-kun, have you ever tried walking on air?"

Hanatarou stares at her with wide eyes, probably confused out of his gentle mind. "Umm...no?"

"Oh." Orihime beams at him as she gathers her blankets around herself, preparing to go to bed. "You should try it some time."

She skips towards her bedroom, leaving Hanatarou gaping at her back. Kurosaki-kun and Chad are waiting outside the sliding door and she walks up to them, the bright smile on her face undaunted by expressions that are both serious and surprised at the same time.

"Kurosaki-kun," says she, "Chad? What are you doing here?"

They share another of those looks. Orihime feels her happiness waver in the face of their solemnity and she takes a step back, clutching the thin blankets tighter to her chest. "What?" she asks. "What's happening?"

"Inoue," Kurosaki-kun says, "there's something we have to, uhh...talk about."

"Oh." Orihime bows her head the smallest fraction and shakes it. Her teeth take in her lower lip. "Would it...would it be okay if we waited a little bit longer? Please?"

The "please" comes out unexpectedly. She keeps her eyes on the floor, on their feet, suddenly embarrassed. The fading sense of happiness she holds onto and wraps around herself as tightly as her blankets.

"Yeah," Kurosaki-kun replies eventually. "Sure, Inoue. Tomorrow."

She nods and moves past them, only allowing herself to loosen her death grip on her blankets when she closes the door behind her. Orihime crawls onto her mat and buries herself under the thin cloth, pretending that Kurosaki-kun and Chad do not have something important to tell her, that Ishida-kun and she will always be able to have each other, even though a month ago, she would have been surprised to want such a thing. Now, needing Ishida-kun is as natural as breathing. She prays that it will never end.

* * *

Fingers. A hand clamped tight over her mouth, foreign sweat against her cheeks, eyes flying open, screams are muffled, shadow in the dark — monster, monster, monstermonstermonster —

"Inoue."

Kurosaki-kun.

Not a monster.

_Are you sure?_

"Inoue, it's me." He leans forward into the glow of moonlight filtering through her sliding door. Brown eyes creased with worry and adrenaline, the ever-present frown on his familiar face. Behind him, looming silently in the darkness, is a solid form she dimly recognizes as Chad.

"What's wrong?"

The words are muffled by the hand he keeps over her speaking mouth. Kurosaki-kun watches her warily, waiting for her to start screaming again. She lifts a hand and tears his fingers from her face. It's not her fault. She thought he was a monster. He woke her right in the midst of her nightmares.

"Kurosaki-kun?" Orihime whispers.

Worry leaks away from his frown. He leans back on his heels. Above his shoulder peeks the narrow handle of his zanpakutou.

Fear lances through her heart in an instant. "What is it?" She sits up hastily, hands flying instinctively to her hairclips. "Is it Ishida-kun? Is he in trouble?"

Kurosaki-kun shushes her hurriedly. "Quiet, Inoue. Don't wake anyone up."

In her panic, she does not catch the unreadable expression he gives her when she asks after Ishida-kun.

Orihime blinks and nods, allowing her hands to fall back to her sides. Her gaze slides from Kurosaki-kun to Chad. He is standing by the door, dressed in the black garb of a _shinigami_. As her eyes adjust to her surroundings, she picks out details: his rigid posture, the thick fingers moving with readiness, the harsh set of his mouth. She swivels her head back slowly to take in Kurosaki-kun's face. She sees all the same signs in him. And one more.

He tries not to meet her eye, and when he does, his gaze carries an apology.

She _knows_. She has known ever since Chad came back.

"You're leaving me."

No. That's wrong. That is not what she means to say at all — but it is. He is _leaving her_. Just as she always expected him to.

Disappointment brings a sour, bitter taste to her tongue.

"I tried to tell you," Kurosaki-kun says. "I tried to let you in on it. But you were always away; I could never find time to tell you."

Always away. Always with Ishida-kun.

"Where…where are you going?" Orihime cannot think of anything else to say. What _can_ she say? I knew you would do this? Don't worry, Kurosaki-kun, I'm fine. Go.

"I have to save Rukia."

She has never been more motionless in her life.

"We've been here too long already," Kurosaki-kun pushes onward. "I know her execution is behind Ishida's, but she's in the Penitence Tower, and I think I can reach her —"

"What about Ishida-kun?"

Kurosaki-kun leans back on his heels, his face grave in the half-light. "We'll get him too. But I need you to help, Inoue. That's where you come in. I need you to get him to _want_ to be saved."

"I am," she insists. "I'm trying."

He smiles gently at her. "I know, Inoue. I know you are."

"Ichigo." Chad moves almost silently across the room to the sliding door that leads into Orihime's little garden. "We have to go."

"Right." Kurosaki-kun sucks in a breath and ventures a hesitant look at Orihime. "Inoue. You'll be alright?"

She nods and watches wordlessly as he gets to his feet, following Chad as the other boy slides the door open. Moonlight pours into the room, illuminating the corners she feels like crawling into, and she squints into the faint light. Kurosaki-kun and Chad are two shadowy statues against the pale night, the sight sending a shiver down Orihime's back.

"So," Kurosaki-kun says awkwardly. "I guess I'll just...bye, Inoue."

He takes Chad's shoulder and they are gone before she even has time to think of a reply. One moment they are there, solid against the night sky, and the next they are gone.

The goodbye, Orihime thinks, is as easy as she always knew it would be for him. What surprises her is that she does not feel the devastating emptiness that she once expected, the sense that a part of her is gone and will never come back. Just to make sure she still has a heart, Orihime raises a hand and presses it against her chest. Her heartbeat is strong and steady against her clammy palm. Orihime fills her lungs with air, closes her eyes, and lets it go.

Kurosaki-kun is gone. And she feels nothing but anticipation for when the sun will rise again, and she can return to her life.

* * *

A/N: Leave a comment to let me know if you're still reading, and what you think! And if there is any constructive criticism, that's welcome as well.

**Zack Zeon:** Thanks! I will keep going; I'll keep going till I finish this story. One of the things I promise myself is that I'll never abandon a story, so hope the wait didn't discourage you too much!

**nikcik: **-splutters- Thank you for such a great review!! A review reply is the least a writer could do for a reviewer. Just my way of saying thanks for taking the time to read and review. Logic and probability are in this story, yes, and a lot of psychological bits that I hope I've been able to pull off. Yes, Ishida-kun has a very, very good reason for being a jerk. Hopefully, Orihime will be able to change that, though, yeah? And maybe there's a little something that none of the readers know just yet...wahaha... Self-sacrificing Ishida-kun = Ishida-kun angst, and as twisted as this sounds, Ishida-kun angst = fun reading time! Gin's role...oooh, he'll show up in the next chapter. Not a good thing for our favorite characters, I assure you (my pathetic attempt at building suspense). I will definitely continue this right through to the end. Hope the long wait didn't chase you away; you're really a great reviewer, the kind every writer hopes to get!

Thanks again, all of you, for reading!

-Kimsa


	6. Solace

You have no idea how bad I feel for making you wait this long. School's been a beast, that's all I have in my defense. Plus I got a little blocked with the timeline of the 'fic, but it's past now.

I really hope I haven't lost too many readers. Chapters may take a while for me to churn out sometimes, but I'll get them out eventually.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Bleach or any of its characters. I'm just borrowing, but sharing is caring, yes? No? Oh well.

Merry Christmas!

* * *

_Half-Truths_

_- Solace -_

* * *

_"Today's the day. They're moving the Quincy into the Penitence Tower."_

_"That girl…she's not still visiting him, is she?"_

_"Of course she is! I heard they're actually making progress. The Quincy is eating like he cares again. Little signs, you know. Little things that convince them to keep letting her see him."_

_"Hmm. The Penitence Tower, huh? Somehow, I don't think little signs will be enough."_

* * *

Orihime is there to watch Ishida-kun ascend to hell. She views the progression from far away, accompanied by a small group of volunteer chaperones from the Fourth. Hanatarou-kun stands timidly by her side and sneaks her concerned glances every minute or so. She ignores him for the most part, keeping her eyes on the stiff group steadily ascending the endless stairs of the Penitence Tower.

"It looks like a funeral procession," she whispers to herself. "Only…with more swords and meaner faces and…yeah, that's a lot of swords…"

Ishida-kun is a speck of ebony-haired purity in the midst of no less than twenty black-clad _shinigami_ bristling with sharp _zanpakutou_ edges and sharper expressions. From where she stands, Orihime can make out two _haoris_ blazing colorless in the sun. Captains. She sucks in a breath. Do they really think Ishida-kun is so dangerous?

_Of course, _says the cruel little voice in the back of her head. _He's a killer. And you only have five more days to prove otherwise._

"Are you sure they won't let me see him today?" Orihime winces inwardly at the open pleading in her voice, but forces herself to look her chaperones in the eye. They refuse to meet her gaze. Somehow, the ground beneath their sandals has grown incredibly interesting.

"I'm sorry, Inoue-san," one of the _shinigami_, a quiet woman named Amaya Misora, says. "Orders from the top … you can't go in until tomorrow, until Ishida-san has had a chance to adjust. If we could change Yamamoto-soutaichou's mind for you, you know we would."

She knows. These people have become her family.

"I only have five days," she protests, but it is nothing more than a breath carried from her lips by the deaf wind.

On the skyscraping columns of the Penitence Tower, the procession rounds the tower's side and disappears from view.

* * *

Orihime may be powerless against the demanding Commander-General's orders, but she will not sit idly while Ishida-kun relies on her. She moves about the Fourth on determined feet, preparing meals and churning up questions she can ask her friend. By the time she sees Ishida-kun again, she will have only four more days until his execution. The thought weighs down on her shoulders and no matter what she tells herself, it will not be shrugged off.

Something else feels wrong, but whatever it is, she cannot place the feeling. It is like a constant prickling at the base of her neck, a thin shiver along her arms or a paralyzing chill down her back. Orihime finds it difficult to keep a firm handle on her determination when she feels like jumping at every noise behind her. Once, a few of her friends enter the room where she is trying to distract herself with sewing. She does not hear them come in and leaps a good distance into the air when she finally does notice them. Her shriek is enough to shatter glass.

"Inoue-san?" they question, giving her uncertain looks. "Are you feeling well?"

Orihime nervously runs a hand through her hair and gives a forced laugh. "Of course," she says. "I'm sorry; I'm just a little jumpy today."

When their expressions do not change, she hands out a couple apologies and hurries off to find Hanatarou-kun.

"Hanatarou-kun," she says when she finally finds him, "have you ever felt a weird feeling?"

He blinks up at her in mild confusion. "What kind of feeling?"

"A weird one. Where your arms go all prickly and the back of your neck turns cold and your spine is tingly. That one?"

Hanatarou-kun creases his forehead and pushes his lower lip out a little. "Oh, that one. Yeah. Once, when I was at the Academy, these guys just decided they didn't like me. They followed me around for a couple of days and pulled pranks on me. I always got that feeling whenever they were watching me."

His gaze suddenly turns concerned. "Why? You're not being bullied, are you?"

Orihime shakes her head thoughtfully. "No. I just get that feeling … like I'm being watched. But whenever I turn around, there's no one there."

Hanatarou-kun's eyes go very round. "Oh. Well, umm … are you okay?"

"Mm-hmm," Orihime replies absently. Her arms are suddenly very cold, and she rubs them to bring back a little warmth. "I'm alright."

But the feeling is still there.

* * *

That night, she runs for her life.

_She is running frantically through the deadened halls of the Maggot's Nest, the walls turning sharply in front of her, but never leading her out. A twisted sob spills from her panting mouth. She can't find the way out. She's never going to get out._

_Laughter behind her, high and sharp and more cutting than a razor's sting. Orihime turns her head, but all she can see is darkness, black as night, swallowing up the hallway as she passes through. There are flashes of color in the shadows coming up to swallow her — the glint of white teeth and bone-and-silver colored hair, a bleached _haori_. She shrieks and tears off down the hall. Her feet cannot move fast enough — it's going to overtake her, she can already feel its tendrils reaching out and tugging at her hair and clothes as she flees._

_Suddenly, the feeling of impending horror vanishes. Orihime keeps running, sure that it will come after her in an instant. That's when she hears it. A thin ragged scream, something she's never heard before and never wants to hear again._

_She skids to a stop, her body swiveling with the speed of a snail. Ishida-kun is there, embedded in the darkness's midst. He strains against its hold, his face marred by fear and fury. Over his shoulder, a figure appears, all gleaming teeth and malice. Its pale, inhumanly long hands wrap tightly around his throat. Ishida-kun's eyes go wide._

_"No!"_

_Time freezes on her. It takes eons for her to lift one foot and put it down again. Her body lurches forward against the invisible grip that holds it back, her arms reaching out to the Quincy._

_"Ishida-kun, hold on!"_

_She's too late. Ishida-kun's eyes go as lifeless and lightless as the day he chased her away. His head bends backward at an unnatural angle and is the first part of him to be sucked in, followed by his shoulders, his chest, his arms —_

_"Hold on!" Orihime watches helplessly as the last of him slips through. She's nowhere near saving him._

_"No—"_

"Ishida-kun!!"

Orihime's eyes snap open. She sees nothing but the dark ceiling above her and immediately panics, tearing the sheets off of her and rolling away from her sleeping mat. Her knees shake beneath her as she stumbles toward the sliding door.

"Leave us alone," she mutters desperately, her face twisting as she yanks the door open. Her vibrant hair hangs in disarray around her face, her white robe tangling around her ankles as the moonlight pours in on her. She looks up, searching frantically for the person she knows is waiting there, someone she knows is watching out of pure instinct and animal fear —

There. Her breath hitches in her scarred throat. Standing on the rooftop opposite her is a pale white-clad demon, an inhuman smile stretching across his gaunt face. The half-light reflects off his silver hair. One second he is there and the next he is gone, so fast Orihime would doubt whether he was there at all, but she knows he was, because the nightmare is still vivid in her unhinged mind.

She takes an unsteady step out onto the porch, her chest heaving with short gasps. Rage wells up hot and furious in her, a feeling she hasn't had for far too long. She feels more alive than any time within the last month.

"You stay away from us!" Orihime hardly recognizes herself now. She knows she is acting possessed, but that demon wants to kill Ishida-kun, to steal him away from her, and she's not going to let it. Her lungs swell with energy.

"Don't come back! Demon! Leave Ishida-kun alone! _Leave us alone!_"

Her infuriated screams have woken the sleeping spirits around her and they come out with concerned, wary stares. _Shinigami_ surround her, touching her as if she will break if they press too hard.

"Inoue-san? What's wrong?"

"What's going on?"

"There's no one there!"

"Who were you talking to, Inoue-san?"

She doesn't hear them. The man, the demon, whatever it was, is long gone.

* * *

"Inoue-san? Are you alright?"

She lifts her head from staring blankly at the food in front of her, feeling like a marionette attached to iron strings. All around her, her friends are giving her the Look — the look she's seen almost every day for the past month, a worried stare that makes her tongue curl at the bitter aftertaste of pity. It makes her want to duck her head back down again.

"I'm fine." Funny, how lying has become so easy. Especially that lie.

"Last night…" The owner of the low voice catches Orihime's attention. Juro Hasegawa sits across the table and two seats to her left, his dark gaze glued to the woodwork in front of him. He is one of the _shinigami_ who treats her like a walking time bomb, one of the people she catches giving her nasty glances when she's nearby. He believes Ishida-kun is guilty and Orihime is crazy for thinking him innocent.

At his quiet words, the restrained conversation at the table dies. Directly to Orihime's right, Misora-san stops eating and gives Hasegawa-san a pointed glare.

"Hasegawa…"

Hasegawa-san returns Misora-san's glare with a calm stare. "Last night," he continues, "someone tried to break into the Penitence Tower."  
Orihime's entire body freezes. Low muttering picks up along the table, but no one cries out in surprise or horror. Looking around her, Orihime notices more than one tense glance aimed in her direction. She looks back to Hasegawa-san.

"Last night?" she repeats in a thin whisper. He nods.

"After we finally got you back in bed. After you stopped shouting at shadows."

"Hasegawa!" Misora-san snaps. "That's enough."

Hasegawa-san shrugs his thick shoulders. "I just thought she should know," he mutters, and goes back to his breakfast.

Orihime's thoughts are a jumbled mess. _Kurosaki-kun, _she thinks. _Hasegawa-san said someone _tried_ to break into the Tower … that means …_

There is a comforting hand on her shoulder. Orihime turns to see Misora-san's reassuring smile.

"It's alright," the older woman whispers. "He got away."

Orihime's lips twitch into a tiny smile. "Thank you," she murmurs, and is left to her thoughts.

* * *

Somehow, she manages to lie her way into visiting Ishida-kun, despite her minor episode. On her way up the Penitence Tower, she pretends not to notice the gaping hole near the Tower's base or the way the guards glare at her in open suspicion. She holds her head high and Ishida-kun's lunch close to her stomach, in case any wayward _shinigami_ decides to try and sabotage her plans. There are only four days left, and Orihime doesn't plan on letting _anyone_ getting in the way of saving Ishida-kun.

It takes much longer to reach Ishida-kun's cell in the Penitence Tower than when he was locked away in the Maggot's Nest, and though Orihime is short of breath when she finally reaches his cell, she can't help but feel grateful. Ishida-kun is a being of light, and to lock him away where he can't touch even the smallest of sun's rays is beyond unfair. It is cruel.

There are three guards standing watch outside Ishida-kun's cell. For a moment, Orihime is confused. Instead of a normal cell door, there is merely the outline of a door in the lifeless white stone. She is about to ask for help when one of the guards steps forward, utters a few words under his breath, presses the wall in several places, and steps back. The outline of a door suddenly slides back, and Orihime is pushed through into a large dark room. The door slams shut behind her.

It takes a moment for her startled eyes to adjust. The contrast between the whiteness of the walls outside the shadowed cell and the interior of the cell itself makes her squint and blink rapidly. The only source of light is a break in the wall opposite her, a long gap too perfect and symmetrical to be accidental. Brilliant sunlight streams in through the gap and stamps a golden-white rectangle on the stone floor.

In the time it takes her to adjust to her surroundings, Ishida-kun has risen from his spot near the "window" in the wall and is standing in front of her. Orihime tilts her head back and gives him a gentle smile.

"Ishida-kun," she says, "your room is so big!"

She thinks she sees the corners of Ishida-kun's lips curl up, but the movement is gone too quickly for her to be sure.

"It's better than the Maggot's Nest," says Ishida-kun. "I can breathe here."

Orihime touches his hand lightly. "Come on, Ishida-kun," she says. "Let's eat something."

She is ecstatic to see him eat so well. There is none of the frenzied hunger she saw when she first brought him food, yet he isn't reluctant either. He looks, except for the hollowness in his cheeks, the haunted look in his eyes, and the grime covering him from head to foot…normal. Ishida-kun looks normal for a moment, and it is then that Orihime decides to try and bring up his fears.

They sit with their backs against the wall, her on one side of the "window" and him on the other. Their hands lie on the ground with only their index fingers touching. No matter how small the contact, it is there. Orihime draws strength and solace from it.

"Ishida-kun," she says, "I —"

"Inoue-san."

Orihime jumps and looks at him. He has his head only partially turned toward her, so he is looking at her from the corner of one cobalt eye.

"Yes, Ishida-kun?"

She follows the movement of his throat as he swallows tightly. "I know what you're going to ask," he says.

Orihime blinks. The silence buzzes awkwardly in her ears. "Oh," is all she can say. "You … you do?"

He nods. "I have four days left, not including today. I heard Kurosaki trying to break Kuchiki-san out last night, and I know that you know about his attempt. I know this will make you ask. I know you, Inoue-san. You're the only person I've really talked to since…"

Ishida-kun swallows again and draws his hand away from her, into his lap. "What is there to talk about?" he wonders bitterly. "I killed them."

"That can't be all," Orihime starts, but he cuts her off with a sharp scowl.

"What more do you want there to be? I knew the risks I was taking when I unleashed that power. I was … I was arrogant. I thought I could control it, when I knew I couldn't. I just … that monster killed my grandfather. I wanted to kill _him_. And I did, but … I killed everyone else in the process."

He shifts and grasps her hand so tightly she almost gasps at the pain. "I almost killed _you_, Inoue-san," he says harshly. "Even if I could forgive myself for killing all those people, I could never…"

His fingers start to fall away from hers. Before the thought fully registers, Orihime wraps her fingers around his and holds tight. Ishida-kun looks up in ill-concealed surprise, but he does not pull back.

"Ishida-kun, do you think I hate you?"  
He stares openly, not a hint of his earlier self-hatred in his gaze. "Wha … no."

"Do you hate me?"

"Inoue-san, what…? Of course not!"

Orihime smiles brightly at him. "Then I forgive you."

For a moment, the silence is a living thing that laughs at the stunned expression on Ishida-kun's dirt-streaked face. Ishida-kun gathers his wits about him after several moments of shocked staring.

"Inoue-san, it's not that simple. You don't know what you're — "

"I know exactly what I'm saying," Orihime says. "I forgive you, Ishida-kun, for everything you have done. I forgive you for trying to control something you couldn't. I forgive you for cutting my throat. And I forgive you for refusing to see that you're a good person."

By now, she is kneeling in front of him, the sun from outside the window hitting her directly in her face. She can see Ishida-kun taking in the sight, studying her face, and lets him. A ray of sunlight hits his right eye and makes it glow in a way she hasn't seen in what seems like forever.

"You forgive too easily," Ishida-kun finally murmurs, but she can tell his heart isn't into it.

The door to the cell slides open.

Orihime whirls around and is still on her knees by the time Ishida-kun is on his feet. All three of the guards stand just inside the cell door, their stances hostile and their expressions merciless. Ishida-kun immediately pulls Orihime to her feet and steps in front of her.

The foremost guard moves his wide hand to his _zanpakutou's_ hilt. "Time's up," he says in a tone that offers no room for argument.

"Huh?" Orihime's mind backpedals in bewilderment. "But … you've never interrupted before. And I barely got to talk with Ishida-kun at all today…"

"Things have changed," the _shinigami_ says. "Now get out. You can come back tomorrow."

Orihime's mind is still turning with confusion, but she knows better than to fight against orders. She touches Ishida-kun's arm and gives him a faint smile when he turns to look at her.

"I'll be back soon, Ishida-kun," she reassures him, and starts to walk past.

Ishida-kun has her upper arm in a death grip before she can continue. The guards start to move forward, calling out to him in warning. Ishida-kun ignores them.

"There is one more thing," he says in a hushed voice. "That night … there was something that still doesn't make sense to me. I've tried to figure it out, but I still can't. Just before I broke the Quincy glove, I thought I saw someone. He didn't do anything, just appeared behind Kurotsuchi and vanished almost immediately after."

"What did he look like?" Orihime whispers.

"Time is up, _ryoka_!" the _shinigami_ warns.

"Brown curly hair," says Ishida-kun. "Glasses. And … he was wearing a captain's robes."

For a reason she cannot explain, Orihime's stomach drops out from beneath her. "A captain?" she repeats. "But why would a captain just …?"

"I am giving you three seconds to get out," the lead guard says threateningly. "One … two …"

With one last look back at Ishida-kun, Orihime rushes to the _shinigami_ and out the door.

* * *

Hanatarou-kun is as willing and afraid to help as ever.

"That sounds like Captain Aizen," he says, and immediately looks around to see if he's been overheard, even though there is no one in sight. Orihime managed to catch him tidying up her room and repeated Ishida-kun's description of the captain he'd seen.

"But that can't be right, right?" Hanatarou-kun says.

"Why not?"

The look he gives her would appear condescending on anyone else, but on Hanatarou-kun it is simply puzzled. "Because he died before Ishida-san ever ran into Kurotsuchi-taichou."

Orihime only stares at him. "But … but Ishida-kun saw him."

"Inoue-san, Aizen-taichou has been dead for over a month. We, uhm … we actually have his body here in the Fourth. He was assassinated."

The remains of Orihime's lunch feel like they have been pushed into a blender and are trying to escape. "Assassinated?" she repeats faintly.

Hanatarou-kun nods and busies himself with folding her blankets. "I'm not supposed to know, but … that's an advantage to being me. People don't seem to realize I'm there and, before I know it, I'm invisible and hearing things that most _shinigami_ don't even _want_ to hear."

He gave out a jittery laugh and shrugged his shoulders. "Either way, Aizen-taichou is dead. So your friend couldn't have seen him."

"Is it possible for ghosts to have ghosts?" Orihime wonders aloud. Hanatarou-kun jumps and gives her an uncertain stare.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Orihime says. The mystery of the dead (undead?) captain lingers over her head like a curse. She knows Ishida-kun would never lie to her, but neither would Hanatarou-kun. So what is happening?

"There was something else I was wondering about," Orihime says distractedly. "About another captain. One with silver hair and a … a smile that kind of stretches all the way across his face."

Again, the frightened look returns to Hanatarou-kun's face. "That one sounds like Ichimaru-taichou," he says, and Orihime is startled to find a tremble in the boy's voice.

"He's not dead too, is he?"

"Oh, him? Oh, no — I don't think anything can kill Ichimaru-taichou," Hanatarou-kun says half-seriously. "Umm … he's captain of the Third division. And he's, well … what Misora-san would call an 'experience.'"

A plan starts to grow in Orihime's mind. "Do you think I could find him if I went there? To the Third?"

"Well, yes, but … why would you want to meet Ichimaru-taichou?"

But Orihime is already on her way. Hanatarou-kun runs to catch up to her.

"Wait, Inoue-san! Don't go!"

"I just have to check something," Orihime insists. She hears Hanatarou-kun babbling worriedly at her side, but his words wash ineffectually over her head. If she's right and Ichimaru-taichou is the captain she's looking for, she will know who to look out for. Every glimpse of the demon from her dreams was unfocused or unclear, blurred by panic and the haze of the subconscious. She needs to confront her fears face-to-face. Otherwise, how can she convince Ishida-kun to face his?

Hanatarou-kun reluctantly guides her all the way to the gates of the Third Division. He is nearly begging her to turn around by the time they arrive, but Orihime assures him that she only wants to see the captain for herself.

Two _shinigami_ stand guard at the gates. They bar Orihime's way before she can pass through.

"Who are you?" one of them demands. "Which Division do you belong to?"

"W-we're from the Fourth," Hanatarou-kun stammers fearfully. "We were just wondering if Ichimaru-taichou was here…"

"Fourth Division?" The _shinigami_ smirks at his companion. "Thought I smelled something funny."

The second guard, who up until now has not spoken a word, leans forward to peer into Orihime's face.

"I know you," he says. "You're a _ryoka_!"

The first guard jumps and makes a gesture toward Hanatarou-kun. "What do you think you're doing, bringing a _ryoka_ here?"

"Yamamoto-soutaichou granted her amnesty," Hanatarou-kun protests weakly.

Both guards advance in a way that makes Orihime's chest tighten. At her side, Hanatarou-kun cowers.

"You're not wanted here," the second guard growls, his hand moving slowly for his zanpakutou. "Get out."

"Now, now. We're all friends here."

It is a voice that makes Orihime's spine crawl with terror and disgust. The back of her neck begins to prickle, and her arms shiver with goose bumps.

Orihime spins on her heel — and stares directly into the face of the demon from her nightmares.

* * *

A/N: I don't really feel that this chapter was up to par with the rest of them. I apologize if it seemed lacking in any way, but I'm not sure how to fix it. I accomplished all the goals I had set out for it. So...-shrugs- The next chapter will be much better - it's the one I've been _dying_ to write since the start of the story.

Leave a review at the beep.

**Zack Zeon**: Err...I apologize for makin' Ishida-kun suffer. But 'tis fun to watch the results, yes?

- Kimsa


	7. Human

Wrote most of this to Hans Zimmer's "Way of Life" from the Last Samurai soundtrack. 3:50-5:40 for the latter scenes of the chappie, though the beginning of the song fits in with Orihime's life at the Fourth Division.

Thank you so much for your reviews! They pushed the count to over 60! That's wonderful! And probably one of the main reasons this chapter is out right now.

'Tis a rather _long_ chapter, too. The longest, in fact. But, in my opinion, it is also one of the better ones.

(For some reason, the document manager won't let me center the chapter title. Disregard the weirdness of it, please)

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. I'm just borrowing, but sharing is caring, yes? No? STILL? Oh well.

_

* * *

_

_Half-Truths_

_- Human -_

* * *

The demon is even more terrifying in reality. Orihime stands still as a pinned butterfly, her eyes feeling too large for her head as she struggles to contain the sharp, animal fear spiking through her thin veins. The demon is a slight against all that is good and natural. Every inch of its long, heinous smile, every crease around its slanted eyes is an insult to sanctity. Even the soft sunlight that falls on its mercury-tainted locks is corrupted. Everything about this creature screams _abomination_.

So, of course, the abomination offers her a smile taut enough to break its face in two.

"Hellooo," the demon purrs. "And, uh, who might you be?"

"Orihime," she whispers, and shivers when she realizes that she's answered without thinking. She takes a small step back and nearly flinches when the demon replies with two steps forward.

"Orihime-chan." The demon gives a muffled giggle at the way she hunches her shoulders at the nickname. "Soul Society's very own _ryoka_, visitin' my division? Tell me…what did I do ta deserve this…_honor_?"

Orihime curls her fingers into her palms. She will not turn her back on this monster; she will not flee, no matter what obscenities her instincts shriek at her. She is strong. She is strong for Ishida-kun.

"Leave him alone," she says. The demon raises its eyebrows at her and pulls its head back like a startled predator.

"Hmm? Leave who alone, kiddo?" It turns its head toward Hanatarou-kun, who she can practically feel shaking at her side. "This one? But — hah — I haven't even done anything to 'im yet!"

"Not Hanatarou-kun," Orihime insists. "Ishida-kun."

"Ah." The demon bends its long neck down toward her, a beast sniffing out the fear in its prey. "Your _ryoka_ friend. Tell me, Hime-chan, what could I possibly want with _him_?"

Orihime licks her lips, her mind whirring. This, she thinks, is what it must be like to be interrogated by Death. "I don't know," she admits. "I…I know you're following me, though."

Hanatarou-kun jumps as if someone has struck him with a red-hot poker. "I-Inoue-san!"

"How dare you?" One of the guards steps forward aggressively, his dark eyes livid with fury. The demon holds up a single hand, its fingers long and colorless, and the other _shinigami_ stops in his tracks. Orihime can feel the hatred and confusion radiating off him in noxious clouds. She swallows to wet her parched throat and curls her toes into her sandals.

"I saw you last night," she says. "On the rooftop. You were watching me. I just came because I needed to know if it was you. So I would know who was following me and Ishida-kun. I…I'm going to save him. I'm going to save Ishida-kun. So don't…don't come near us anymore. Leave us alone… _please_."

The demon is still smiling in a way that makes Orihime's spine want to corrode away into dust. She averts her eyes and, her hands clamped tightly at her sides, moves to stride past him. Only three steps take her to the demon's side before its voice slithers into her cringing ears.

"If I were you, sweetheart, I'd watch how I talked to my superiors in the future."

Orihime comes to a stop and looks up at the monster out of the corner of her eye. Fear drives a dagger into her stomach; one of the demon's eyes has opened into a thin slit. A pupil redder than Ishida-kun's blood leers out at her. The demon's smile has stretched so wide that white, gleaming teeth glint hungrily in the hateful sunlight.

"Someone could think yer bein'…disrespectful. Then something terrible might happen. A nasty murderer might get punished. Terrible, terrible, terrible…I would really _hate_ to see such a thing happen. Wouldn't you?"

Orihime recognizes a bad situation when she sees one. Just like in her nightmares, though, she cannot break out of it. She can't make herself run. The demon chuckles and lifts a hand to pat her cheek. Its touch burns like foul acid.

"There, there," the demon says sweetly. "Don't feel sad. Every human dies eventually. And, aha, hey…at least yer Kuchiki friend is still alive, right?"

Orihime jumps. _Rukia_. "Kuchiki-san?" she repeats in a faint whisper. Dread crawls into the pits of her stomach. "What did you do to her?"

The demon spreads its hands out in a bewildered gesture. "Nothin', princess. I'm innocent as a lamb."

With that, her nightmare turns on its heel and heads through the gates of its division. Just before the iron bars close behind it, it turns it silver head and smiles at her once again.

"Nice talkin' to ya, Hime-chan!"

Orihime stares after it with wide, unseeing eyes. Hanatarou-kun comes up to take her arm, his touch timid and more than a little frightened.

"Inoue-san? Are you…wh-what's wrong?"

"Hey, you two," the first guard snaps. "Get out of here."

Orihime needs no prompting. In an instant she has turned on her heel and is flying to the Penitence Tower, Hanatarou-kun babbling confusedly behind her as he follows. His questioning words glance off her turned back. Her heart pumps furiously in her chest, trying desperately to beat her in this mad race to Kuchiki-san's cell.

"Inoue-san!" Hanatarou-kun cries. "Wait! Where are you going?"

She doesn't bother turning her head and doesn't even falter when she nearly crashes into two passing _shinigami_. "To see Kuchiki-san!" she answers. _Oh, please don't let me be too late — I'll never forgive myself —_

"But _wait_!" She doesn't know how he does it, but suddenly Hanatarou-kun is in front of her. Orihime skids to a stop before she can crash into him. The timid boy winces in anticipation, but straightens when she does not rush past him again.

"Inoue-san, you can't just run off to see Kuchiki-san," he says. "The guards won't let you in, especially after your friend tried to break her out. They might not even let you see Ishida-san if you do that."

Orihime blinks and goes very still. "I…I hadn't thought of that," she admits faintly.

Hanatarou-kun's face flushes with color and his hand comes up to rub the back of his head. "You were worried. And you're only human, you can't expect to think of everything."

"I should have thought of that," Orihime insists. "I'm supposed to be saving Ishida-kun, and I almost got myself into trouble. Thank you, Hanatarou-kun, for stopping me."

"Umm." Hanatarou-kun's face turns an even darker color of shy embarrassment. "That's alright. And, umm…if something had happened to Kuchiki-san, we would have found out by now. I don't think Ichimaru-taichou would hurt her, let alone in broad daylight. We can go check on her if you like, but only if the guards let us. O-okay?"

Orihime nods. Hanatarou-kun's words soothe her, but the demon's have already staked their claim on her conscience. There is something terribly wrong with everything, something she can't seem to pinpoint. Whatever it is, it's threatening Kuchiki-san as well as Ishida-kun, now.

No matter what she seems to do, there is something to hold her back from helping her friends.

* * *

Kuchiki-san is alive and well. The guards will not let her into her friend's cell, but they do let her see Kuchiki-san. She smiles and waves cheerily, relief swelling up in her, as welcome as happiness. Kuchiki-san stares and waves back weakly. She doesn't understand what Orihime is doing here, grinning at her and waving like an idiot.

But that's alright. She hasn't been touched by the demon. Its threats are empty.

…For the meantime.

* * *

No more Ishida-kun for an entire day. It seems that only when one of her closest friends is on death row that she is impatient for the day to die. Impatient for the time when she can see him again; the guards won't let her back into his cell, no matter how much she pleads with them. Kurosaki-kun's attempt to steal Kuchiki-san away has made the Commander-General less than generous with the time she is allowed with Ishida-kun. So she'll have to wait until another day dawns to see the only reason she gets up in the morning.

Her morning was practically saturated with stress. Orihime's worn body insists on her rest, but she refuses to take even a moment to rest her head. This is how she fights to save Ishida-kun when she isn't with him: she pesters people with questions.

How will Ishida-kun be executed? Where? By whom? Will she be allowed to stand by him?

Questions that pierce through her very soul and remind her all-too-painfully of her human mortality. Deadly questions. Dangerous questions. Questions that need to be asked, and so will be.

Soukyoku is the name of Ishida-kun's end. He will not die by a _shinigami's_ hand, then — though Orihime has every intention of saving the Quincy, she think she will be glad to know that his execution would come from a powerful entity, and not his most hated adversary.

Yes, she will be allowed to watch him die. It is her reward for getting him to cooperate while incarcerated.

Orihime would like nothing more than to cry and scream at the _shinigami_ who tells her this. Instead, she bares her teeth in a polite smile and says, "Thank you."

She has learned to be cordial to blind cruelty.

* * *

That night, Orihime's dreams seek to break her mind in half with confusion.

_She is walking through the hallways of the Fourth, going about her life without Ishida-kun by her side. Her friends greet her as she passes, their faces hidden from view by blank black masks. Dread and unease stir in her heart's depths, but no matter how hard she tries, she cannot act any differently than if her friends had been human. She cannot help but smile and laugh and sing a happy working song._

_A man in a white captain's coat comes up to her and wraps his arm around her shoulders. She looks up, up, up…his face is blurred as a child's amateur finger-painting portrait, his features slipping and sliding as if someone threw water upon his face. As if he's the Wicked Witch, and the life-sustaining liquid brings only death to him._

_Colors mesh together on his head. Brown, black, beige…but the eyes. The eyes always remain, dark, calculating things with cruelty and mocking malice echoing in their depths. Orihime wants nothing more than to run from this man. His arm around her keeps her immobile. The panic rises. The dream shifts chaotically, a broken kaleidoscope smashed by a child's uncaring hand…_

_And just like that, it all fades away. She is back in Ishida-kun's cell, the only light coming through that odd rectangular window in the wall. Ishida-kun is standing before her. He comes up to her before she can speak and she feels his hands on her shoulders._

_"Ishida-kun?" She says, the words ring clear in her ears. "What's wrong?"_

_He doesn't reply. Yet she sees his lips turning up in a soft smile, those lips she's caught herself looking at more than once. Lips that take mere words and weave them together to form worlds that make her spirits soar, break, tumble to Earth like fallen angels._

_She feels those lips against her cheek. Ishida-kun's hands tangle in her hair, lost in pumpkin strands, and everything is right. Orihime melts into his frame, heedless of the bloodstains his lips leave on her eyelids, her nose, the soft spot just above her mouth…_

She wakes to a racing heart, colliding thoughts, an odd ache in her chest…and a single, solitary tear steadily rolling down the cheek dream-Ishida-kun kissed.

* * *

"Hanatarou-kun," she says quietly, just as she's about to leave to see Ishida-kun, "what do you think…what do you think dreams mean?"

Hanatarou-kun peers up at her with big, round eyes that remind her of a puppy the little boy down the street once had. "I don't know. Sometimes, my dreams are really weird and don't mean anything at all. I once dreamt that I was the Commander-General and that, umm..." He pauses to look around nervously, almost making Orihime smile. "Well…that Captain Byakuya ate this really spicy wasabi roll, and that's how he got to be so serious. And we know both of those things are impossible, so I guess some dreams aren't really meaningful. Others, though…others are different. Misora-san once said that dreams can sometimes hint at things that are about to happen, or things we want."

"Things we…want?" Orihime can't meet Hanatarou-kun's eye. She watches her fingers play, unwinding and winding together again, unsuccessfully trying to hold in the blush that she knows is rising in her cheeks.

"Mm-hmm," Hanatarou-kun says. "How come? Did you have a dream, Inoue-san?"  
She nods and presses her palms flat against each other, her teeth teasing her lower lip again. Hanatarou-kun waits patiently for her to tell him about the dream, but it isn't something she will tell anyone. "I think I should go now," she says to her hands. "Lot of…lot of things to talk about with Ishida-kun."

_Things we want_, she thinks as she leaves poor Hanatarou-kun to start off the day as a ball of concerned confusion. _That can't…I don't want Ishida-kun to do _that_, do I? No…no. Ishida-kun is my friend. Like Hanatarou-kun said, some dreams don't mean anything. Some dreams are just silly things._

_But…_

* * *

She knows the instant she steps through the door that she's in trouble. Ishida-kun stands next to the rectangle-window, looking out into the thin glimpse of freedom he is allowed. He turns to gaze at her when she passes through, and his eyes are so dark…just as they were in her dream.

Orihime is more than thankful for the dim light in the cell. She does not want Ishida-kun to see the evidence of her embarrassment smeared across her face.

"Inoue-san," he says gently, and takes himself away from the window to stand in front of her. Orihime reaches out to offer him her customary gift: breakfast. Not the revolting gruel he's handed for sustenance, but real, mouth-watering food. She takes shelter in normality. Dreams are dreams, and nothing more. This one doesn't mean anything, despite the recent relevance of her mind's nighttime workings.

They eat in silence, as they have done days before this. Orihime's appetite has conveniently decided to flee, the coward. She picks at her food. Ishida-kun's razor-sharp perception has not been dulled in the least by captivity. He stops eating once he notices her reluctance and taps her lightly on the back of her hand.

"Inoue-san. Is something wrong?"

Orihime works her jaw thoughtfully and stares intently at the apple cupped in her hands. She is tempted to tell him about the dream, if only to see how he will react. Instead, what comes out of her mouth is, "I think someone might be trying to hurt Kuchiki-san."

She is as surprised as Ishida-kun is; it wasn't what she wanted to say at all.

"What? How?" Orihime begins to flinch at Ishida-kun's tone before realizing it is not directed at her. She recognizes this voice; it's Ishida-kun's killing voice, the identity he takes on when faced with a particularly serious puzzle or trap. Something sparks in the back of her subconscious. She lifts her head to look at him, and sure enough, his eyes blaze with cold fire.

There was a time when Orihime would have been saddened to see such ferocity in his eyes. Now, she rejoices in the knowledge. It means he is regaining some of his former spirit.

"I had a nightmare," she offers, tripping over her words in her eagerness to excite the fire in Ishida-kun's gaze. "It was about you getting chased by a…a demon. A demon with silver hair and a mean smile. Then I woke up and went outside, but I saw it watching me. I went looking for it after it left. It's a captain named Gin Ichimaru. I…I told him to leave you alone, but he acted like he didn't know what I was talking about. I know he's up to something. When I tried to leave, he…he threatened you and Kuchiki-san. He said that it was a good thing Kuchiki-san was still alive."

Orihime winced, suddenly realizing how silly she must sound. Her gaze went back to examining the apple in her cupped hands. "I know it could mean anything; Kuchiki-san is scheduled for an execution right after you. But the way he said it…Ishida-kun, it isn't just the execution. I know it's something more. I could _feel_ it."

"No," Ishida-kun says harshly, almost making her jump, "you're right. There are too many secrets in this world. Keep an eye out, Inoue-san. Don't let your guard down. Don't go anywhere without someone with you. Understand? It's too dangerous. There are too many people who don't like us here."  
Orihime nods, her nerves jumping with fright. "What if he tries to…to hurt you or Kuchiki-san?"

Ishida-kun's eyes flash dangerously. "We won't let him. He's not going to get to her."

"But what about _you_, Ishida-kun? What if he tries to hurt you?"

Ishida-kun hesitates and gazes at her silently for a long moment. The look in his eyes reminds Orihime of her dream. She shivers and draws into herself, clutching the apple for support.

"Don't worry about those not worth saving," Ishida-kun says.

Orihime digs her fingernails into the apple's yielding flesh. "You're worth saving," she tells him. "More than anyone else I know."

They sit in a silent standstill for a while. When the guards come to take Orihime away not three minutes later, she leaves with a wondering mind and an uncertain heart. She doesn't realize she forgot to give Ishida-kun the apple until later, but by then it has been already scarred irreparably by her grasping hands.

* * *

It's funny, Orihime thinks later. How she could have started on the right path to saving Ishida-kun simply by _giving_ _him_ someone to save. Guilt and regret live side by side in her heart, but she cannot afford to stop and grieve for dead mistakes. This is the now. This is important.

She spends the day moving about from division to division, trying to collect information. Hanatarou-kun proves her best source; not many _shinigami_ trust a _ryoka_, even one the Commander-General has granted temporary amnesty. How everyone knows what she is, she doesn't know. Maybe they have a secret underground system of alien spies who eavesdrop on her through uber-secretive radio transmitters grown in people's ears! Or maybe some of the death gods _are_ aliens, Martians who use their evil powers to read people's minds! Or maybe word just gets around quickly and she's letting her imagination get the best of her again. She doesn't mind when that happens; rarely has she been carried away by her imagination in the past month or so.

In any event, people know who and what she is, and are reluctant or wary of talking to her. So Hanatarou-kun acts as her spy. Orihime is mildly amazed by how he can just disappear into a room with only two people in it. It's like people don't even realize he exists, sometimes. She wishes that could happen to her. Most of the time people notice her, if only for her overlarge chest — above all else, Orihime is not an idiot. She knows the reason behind people's stares. Recently, though, the scar on her throat seems to get much more attention. Orihime isn't sure whether to be glad or not and so takes to wrapping her neck in a cream-colored scarf. When asked about it, she hides behind a small smile and the response that she's merely cold.

Before he died, Captain Aizen was everything every _shinigami_ hoped to be. Powerful, respected, well-liked — he was quiet and mild-mannered, and despite his withdrawn nature, his kindness won over many people. His little lieutenant had been devastated when she had found his corpse. Why anyone would kill Captain Aizen is beyond most people's range of thought. Some suspect a treacherous power play. Others think the assassin was simply jealous of Aizen's reputation.

Orihime isn't concerned with the _why_. She wants to know how Aizen appeared before Ishida-kun if he was already dead, how the demon-captain intends to hurt Kuchiki-san, and how she is going to convince Ishida-kun to forgive himself when they only have three days after the present.

With Ishida-kun's execution date drawing near, the _shinigami_ are growing restless. They are eager for retribution, justice, judgment. She can see the anticipation clearly in the same eyes that refuse to meet hers. Even those who dread Ishida-kun's execution do so only for Orihime's sake. As far as they are concerned, Ishida-kun deserves his impending death. He killed tens of people in one merciless strike, no matter how young or old they were. The people of the Fourth might not be intimate with those of the Twelfth, but they still share a kinship that appears to have cropped up only after the other _shinigami_ are dead.

She can hear Ishida-kun's droll voice resounding in her ear. _The irony_, he would say with a roll of his eyes.

It is five minutes later before Orihime starts to wonder if hearing Ishida-kun's voice in her head is normal.

* * *

He practically scrambles to his feet the instant she's through the door. Orihime gives a little start to find Ishida-kun standing so close to her that she can feel the heat radiating off his body.

"Has anything happened?" He demands, that peculiar fire leaping up in his dark orbs again.

"Umm," says Orihime. Another day has gone by: two more days until the execution. She woke up earlier than usual to visit in the hopes that the guards will allow her more time with Ishida-kun, but the _shinigami_ only warned her that their time today will be cut even shorter than yesterday. Wicked panic falls like snow around her thoughts. She knows what they're doing. They are trying to distance her from Ishida-kun so she won't cause trouble the day he is scheduled to die.

She is suddenly, irrationally thankful that she left her scarf back at the Fourth.

"I found out some things," she says, going over to their usual spot by the window. Ishida-kun's clean footfalls follow her quickly, as eager as their owner to discover new information. Orihime feels a light smile play with the corners of her mouth. She was right in giving Ishida-kun someone to save. He is never this animated for her.

The burning sensation that rises in her body like hot air is tamped down immediately. Orihime sits down on her side of the window and triumphs in not meeting Ishida-kun's eye. Even she recognizes jealousy when she feels it, and this is neither the time nor place for the envy she feels searing through her at the thought of Ishida-kun saving himself for Kuchiki-san.

More than a month ago, she would never have been jealous of one of her friends. But then again, she reminds herself, things have changed.

"Inoue-san?" Ishida-kun's worried voice lifts her from her despicable thoughts.

"Sorry, Ishida-kun," Orihime says with a faint grimace. "I was thinking about something."

"About what?"

The tender curiosity in his prison-hardened voice startles her into looking at him. Neither of them has touched their breakfast yet. Ishida-kun's sits patiently in his lap, beckoning with smells that only the cooks of the Fourth can create, yet he ignores it and pays attention solely to her. Half a smile is there and gone again before she can trap it and hold it there in her usual happy façade. Her resolve wavers. She's losing her touch.

Or maybe she just can't stand to lie to the shattered being sitting next to her, even if the lie is silent as her unspoken desires.

"Tomorrow," she says thinly, "is the day before the execution."

The fire in Ishida-kun's eyes is dimmed, though — _thank God_ — not entirely gone. "Yes," he says tonelessly.

"And they're cutting our visiting time short today."

A low hiss snakes out from between Ishida-kun's clenched teeth. "Bastards," he growls under his breath. "I suppose tomorrow's visiting will be even shorter."

Orihime nods soundlessly. "I think so. I think they're trying to distance us."

Ishida-kun turns his head and gives her hand one of those feather-light touches they are so fond of using. Orihime smiles up at him and returns the touch.

"They won't." Ishida-kun's sure reply warms Orihime's heart.

She wants nothing more than to just sit here and bask in his presence, but she knows that to do so would be selfish. And she's had more than enough of being selfish.

"What I found out," she says, successfully snagging Ishida-kun's attention back to Kuchiki-san. She tells him about Captain Aizen, his death and the rumors surrounding it, his reputation and strengths. Also included are Kuchiki-san's execution date, scheduled the day after Ishida-kun's, the lack of the prickly-feeling in days after she confronted the demon-captain, and her worries for Kuchiki-san's well-being.

Ishida-kun barely has enough time to warn her against trying to find the demon again before the door slides open and the guards step in. Orihime leaves her untouched breakfast with Ishida-kun, glad when he does not protest.

"Inoue-san," he says just before she leaves. She turns to find him staring at her with that fiery look in his eyes again, and this time, it is all for her.

"Be careful," he says quietly. And she is gone.

* * *

Orihime is kidnapped on the way to the Twelfth Division. It is night and much later than she should be out, but she feels the abrupt urge to visit the site of Ishida-kun's "crime." Since the healers of the Fourth are incredibly gifted at distracting her from leaving, she sneaks out long after the sun has set and makes her way toward the Twelfth.

She has barely gotten past the exit gates of the Fourth when a hand reaches out from the shadows and pulls her behind a dark building.

Orihime yelps and struggles for all she's worth. Her hand comes back and smashes into someone's nose; she hears the man yell and feels hot blood spill over her fingers. She breaks away, nearly stumbling over her own feet in a mad dash to escape. Before she can scramble out of the building's shadows, two burly arms wrap around her and keep her pinned against an unyielding chest.

Orihime opens her mouth to scream.

"Calm down, Inoue! It's us."

And closes it again.

Orihime tilts her head to look up into the shadowed features of her captor. Dark curly hair, one eye hidden by long bangs, a square jaw…

"Chad?" She cranes her neck to look past him at another shadowy figure clutching its nose. "Kurosaki-kun?"

Chad releases her the same moment Kurosaki-kun steps forward into a thin shaft of moonlight. Orihime gasps at the crimson dripping through his cupped hands.

"Kurosaki-kun! I'm so sorry!"

Kurosaki-kun gives her an awkward smirk as she rushes forward to envelope half his face in her healing shield.

"'S alright, 'Noue," he says through the blood, barely even wincing when his nose snaps back into place. He rubs the area around his nose tenderly. "I've had worse."  
Orihime steps back to look at them both. They appear the same as the day they left her, which can't have been too long ago, though it feels like a lifetime. There is something weighing on their minds. She keeps her hands in front of her, idly toying with the ends of her scarf.

"Did you come back to help me save Ishida-kun?"

The two _ryoka_ exchange a look. "Sort of," Kurosaki-kun says.

"We can't tell you everything," Chad continues. "We're not too sure of the plan ourselves."

"There's a plan?" Orihime leans up on her tiptoes, her eyes bright and gleaming with questions. "What plan?"

"You already know that Ichigo failed to spring Rukia from prison," Chad goes on, ignoring Kurosaki-kun's death-glare. "Has it…affected the way they're treating Ishida?"

"They're not letting me see him as much," Orihime replies, not liking the way Kurosaki-kun scowls with worry.

"Knew it was coming," he mutters to himself. "I should've tried harder to break her out of there —"

"Even if you had," Chad interrupts, "they would have upped the security on Ishida anyway. Maybe even more than it is right now."

Kurosaki-kun backs off with a grunt. Orihime wonders how months ago, she would have found that enough to set her considering his many endearing traits. Now, she only smiles at his typical response and turns back to Chad.

"We need you to fully convince Ishida of his own innocence before the execution," he says. "There are only two days left. We can't tell you much, but there's going to be another escape attempt on that day. We need you to be ready for anything."

Orihime nods in grim understanding. She doesn't question why she cannot hear the entire plan; she trusts that her friends will let her know what she needs to when the time is right.

"In the meantime," Kurosaki-kun breaks in, "you get through that unnaturally thick skull of Ishida's, alright? And don't go wandering off in the middle of the night! You don't know what kind of crazies are out there."  
He pauses to blink owlishly at her. "What _were_ you doing out here, anyway?"

"I was going to go see the spot where Ishida-kun broke his Quincy glove."

Kurosaki-kun shakes his head. "Not tonight, Inoue. We've seen a lot of people sneaking around tonight, don't know why — maybe they got a whiff of our _reiatsu_. Get back to the Fourth. You can't go during the day, either; I've heard the place is swarming with _shinigami_ performing all sorts of investigations."

A chill goes down Orihime's back at the thought of what some might find…or not find. Bodies, for instance.

"We have to go," says Chad. "We're not allowed out much longer."

"Just remember, Inoue," Kurosaki-kun says as the two head off into the distance. "Keep an eye out for help."

She watches them until they are swallowed by the shadows, one with the night and secrets.

* * *

Orihime wakes to a sense of doom that settles around her shoulders in a strangling hold. For a single, blissful moment, she can't understand why.

And then it hits her like a stab in the back. Today is the day before Ishida-kun's execution. Tomorrow, if she can't save him today, he dies.

She tears out of the comforting cradle of her blankets and rushes to pull on her day clothes. A quick glance at the ripe light slanting through the thin walls of her room lets her know what she already dreads: she's late. Today is the last day to save Ishida-kun, and she _overslept_.

Her frazzled mind struggles to rationalize with her. She was up terribly late last night, yesterday was a harrowing day; her body was just trying to recuperate. Her friends only care about her. They wouldn't want to wake her if they knew it was what she needs.

No. Orihime snaps her hairpins into place and furiously drowns her neck in her scarf. There is no excuse — she needs to get to Ishida-kun _now_ —

People exclaim and stare after her as she bursts out of her room and runs down the hall as if Death himself were after her. She doesn't stop for anyone, not even Hanatarou-kun when she almost crashes into him.

"Sorry, Hanatarou-kun!" she calls over her shoulder. "I'm late for Ishida-kun."

She only stops running when she feels like her side is about to burst. Orihime pauses for a moment, her thin arms wrapped loosely around her shrieking abdomen, and leans against a building's wall. Passing _shinigami_ give her odd, curious looks, but no one stops to ask for her well-being. It's just as well. As soon as she can breathe without feeling like her lungs aren't going to stall and shrivel up, Orihime is off and jogging again.

As she goes, she tries to erect some semblance of organization to her thoughts. She is late. Late on the day when it most counts, late to the one person she cannot afford to be late for. Late.

The word never particularly bothered her before, but it is beginning to.

The time it takes her to go from the Fourth to the Shrine of Penitence stretches effortlessly, mockingly, into years. Orihime is exhausted and pulsing with heat when she finally arrives at Ishida-kun's cell; her eyes and forehead feel like they might burst into flames any second. The thick scarf wound tightly around her neck isn't helping anything, but she is too tired to reach up and untangle it from her throat. Sympathetic glances drift over from the death gods standing guard at Ishida-kun's door.

"H-here," Orihime says breathlessly, giving the men a weak salute.

One of the _shinigami_ goes over to open the door. The other stands still and looks her trembling frame over in a contemplative way.

"This is your last day with him," he says just as the wall slides open into Ishida-kun's cell. "Orders are that you're to take as long as you need. We won't interrupt."

She knows she should feel some sort of uplifting relief at this, and she does, but it is weakened by the sweat on her forehead and the short, shallow gasps tumbling drunkenly from her lips. All Orihime can manage is a thankful nod. The guard grunts and moves to the side with his partner, leaving the way open for her.

The Penitence Tower is cool and heatless from the inside out. Orihime steps into the room and briefly allows herself to enjoy the faint puff of air that comes from the door sliding shut. As always, it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust. In that single instant, Ishida-kun has risen from his spot by the window. He stands there, waiting for her until her eyes recover, so silent and still he could be somewhere else entirely.

Orihime levels her gaze at him when the light-glare vanishes from her view. Her eyes skim over his tense form, something stirring in her at the sight of his posture. He looks…unsure of himself, as if he's unable to decide whether to take the offensive or defensive. His hands open and close into fists and splayed fingers. Emotions race across his face, quick as flash-step: uncertainty, relief, and that indecipherable expression that he makes sometimes when she touches him. She watches and waits patiently, her heart coming down from its mad sprint.

Finally, Ishida-kun acts. He doesn't speak, doesn't utter a single word. He just takes several decisive steps forward, reaches his arms out, and crushes her to his chest.

Orihime's eyes fly wide open. She stays stock still, shocked, not entirely believing her position or the hands curled tightly in her hair, the smell of grime and sweat and _Ishida-kun_ that washes over her, the heart beating firmly against her ear. When her thoughts finally manage coherence, she finds she can't even return Ishida-kun's embrace. His arms are wrapped around her so tightly she can barely breathe.

"I thought they weren't going to let you come in," he murmurs into her hair. "I thought they decided to punish me by keeping you away. I thought…I…"

Orihime is overwhelmed by the naked fear in his voice. Even before her imprisonment, he never showed fear. He never broke down. Not like this.

She tries to reach her hands up and pat him gently on the back. "I'm here, Ishida-kun," she says into his chest. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

His chest expands against her cheek as he takes in a long, cleansing breath. He releases her slowly, reluctantly, not seeming to realize how much air he squashed out of her lungs. Orihime feels nothing but deep, unending relief, even when he backs away and looks off at smudge on the floor.

"Tomorrow," says that familiar, breakable voice, "the _shinigami_ are calling my 'death day.'"

Kurosaki-kun and Chad's welcome warning strays into Orihime's mind. Her lips part to let the secret free and for a moment she has every intention of telling Ishida-kun about the rescue mission. She finds his face in the dim shadows, the words preparing to dive off the tip of her tongue … and she cannot release them. If the mission fails, she cannot bear to dangle false hope in front of Ishida-kun like a tantalizing meal to a starving man.

Besides, he still has not forgiven himself. Orihime can see it in his eyes.

She still has not accomplished what she set out to do more than five weeks ago.

Hours of planning for what she will say at this very moment fly up the heavens. Orihime throws herself to instinct. Her feet guide her forward to close those few steps between them, and she reaches her hands up to cup the sides of Ishida-kun's face. He stares at her in confusion.

"That's not what I think," Orihime murmurs gently. "I think tomorrow we will finally be free. We will leave behind all the suffering, and the sadness, and the guilt. We'll go far away from here. Far away, where no one will find us and tell us that we are bad people."

Ishida-kun does not utter a word. His hands come up to lightly hold her elbows and she smiles, running her thumbs over his smooth cheekbones. Her mind and soul are divided into two unequal halves; one shies in embarrassment from the intimacy, and the other is drawn to it, lured in by the still-healing soul she cradles in her hands. The embarrassed side is not the greater.

"I think you are a good person, but you don't like to see it. I don't know why. Maybe you think you don't deserve to be called good. Maybe you…you think that one mistake defines you. My brother used to tell me about that. He used to warn me of letting my mistakes convince me I was a bad person. He would tell me that everyone makes mistakes, because we're human, and that's what we're bound to do.

"You think you're a bad person, Ishida-kun, I know you do. You don't think you deserve to be saved. But you do. I've seen it. Remember when I first told you I thought Kuchiki-san was in danger? All you could think about was saving her, even though you probably should have been thinking about saving yourself before anyone else. You never hurt me, even when you were mad at something I said. And you feel guilt, Ishida-kun. You know it was a mistake and you feel guilty over it. And that's something no bad person could do."

Her thumbs still on his cheeks as a brief shudder passes through his body. He is staring at her with an intensity that belies the way his gaze passes right through her. Orihime can't imagine what horrors he is seeing, what nightmares plague him as they hound her every night. She leans forward and passes her fingers over the skin beneath his eyes. Her pointer finger comes away wet. His pain and guilt and self-hatred, all bottled up for days on end, endless hours that corrode his untouchable soul — all of it, rising up and spilling over her fingertips in one, two, three droplets. The breath catches in his throat. He swallows tightly, his eyes suddenly roving sightlessly above her head, seeing nothing that she can see.

"It's okay," she coos quietly. "It's okay, Ishida-kun. Everything's okay."

Ishida-kun's grip on her elbows tightens, his fingers digging into her skin. He holds onto her like a dying man to his last hope.

"Let go of it, Ishida-kun," she whispers. "You're only human. Forgive yourself."

His mouth opens twice before any sound comes out. Orihime remains still as his hands come up from her elbows and slowly undo the scarf twined close around her neck. The cold prison air makes her skin crawl as the scarf falls away and lands on the floor in a small heap. Ishida-kun is still very quiet. His fingers go once more to the pale scar on her neck, a silvery mark against her peach-colored skin. It slashes horizontally, its edges rough with the force of its infliction.

"I —" Ishida-kun gasps, and that is all he can manage. The dam breaks. The pain and suffering rushes out in a thick, choked sob, and he buries his face into her neck, his body shivering and jerking with suppressed cries. Orihime wraps her arms around him protectively, shielding him from the monsters that threaten to sweep him up and swallow him whole. His grief stains her shirt and neck, running down her back in freezing droplets. Orihime closes her eyes.

It is a long time before Ishida-kun finally becomes calm again. He does not try to remove himself from her embrace, and neither does she. Ishida-kun has seven inches on her, yet he fits perfectly in her arms, more perfectly than she ever thought Kurosaki-kun or anyone else could. Ignoring the burning ache in her arms from holding tightly for so long, Orihime turns her head the slightest bit. Her lips touch his hair.

She has never felt Ishida-kun so still in her life. If not for the strong heartbeat pressing against hers, she would wonder if he had died holding her.

"Ish—" His name is silenced by the touch of his mouth against her neck.

Suddenly, her legs cannot hold her weight. She sinks against him and abruptly their positions are reversed. He is keeping her upright, her hands pressed flat against his chest as he straightens. Ishida-kun looks down at her, and Orihime trembles at the fierce gleaming in his eyes. _This_ is Ishida-kun — the Ishida-kun who disappeared for more than a month, who vanished off the face of the world of the dead, and was replaced by a mere shadow of his former self. She refuses to let go. She will not let him leave her again, not like that.

A flickering smile makes its way to her lips as he bends his head down. His breath comes in soft waves against her mouth, his forehead touching lightly against hers before he breaches the distance and presses his mouth firmly against hers. Coherency scatters in shards at Orihime's feet. She is dimly aware of her arms coming up to encircle Ishida-kun's neck, her upper half pressed flush against his, the movement of his lips on hers. Here, there is no execution, no blame, no death. Here, there is only them.

High above them, higher than even the Penitence Tower can reach, Orihime sets free her soul.

* * *

A/N: Review, please.

I've been waiting to write this chapter since the first one. I had wanted to make it longer, but it was already thirteen pages on Word. That's huge! And the ending would have been a terrible, horrible cliffhanger. So you can be thankful that this chapter was so long, otherwise you would probably be hurling pitchforks at my head. Not to worry. _That_ scene will be in the next chapter. (Poor foreshadowing effects)

-Kimsa


	8. Disillusion

Thank you, **Haddrell, YesAnimeCharactersCanBeSexy, ShiraFuneHakuteiken, Aiko HanaKai, Itachi'sNailPolish, Lover of Stories 24, lilrenthefox,** and **Diane** for reviewing! You guys make this story worth sloughing through writer's block and life's distractions ;)

At this rate, we have one, maybe two chapters left to this story. We're drawing to a close, people...

_Anyone who can guess the half-truths will receive a dedication in the last chapter._

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. I'm just borrowing, but sharing is caring, yes? No? (At this rate, I'm starting to think it never will be...)

* * *

Half-Truths

_- Disillusion - _

* * *

_"Tomorrow, tomorrow…" _

_"Gin. Stop singing."_

_"Hee hee! No can do, Tōsen. Nah…not when so many exciting things are gonna happen!"_

_"Aizen-sama says we are not to speak of that."_

_"What? 'S not like anyone can 'ear us…"_

_"Our job is not to question him. It is to follow our orders. And you have your orders, Gin, don't you?"_

_A wicked smile with enough malice to corrupt even the purest heart. "Oh, yes. Yes, yes. Got my orders nice 'n clear."_

_"Good. Then carry them out. And finish the job this time. Completely."_

_"'Course. You don't have ta sound so bossy."_

_Silence is his only response. He swaggers away, spider-fingers playing with the unforgiving hilt of his _zanpakutou_._

_"Tomorrow, tomorrow…"_

* * *

If she stares long and hard enough, Orihime is sure the lifeless ceiling above her will morph into baby-blue skies and clouds of every shape imaginable and unimaginable. She wants to float high, high up to dance with clouds that look like sheep and midget-elves and ducks with long antennae and longer tails. Contentment lazes through her veins like syrup.

Then again…she never thought her current situation was possible. Yet here she is. And here he is.

"Inoue-san," Ishida-kun murmurs in her ear. Orihime smiles and threads her fingers through his ebony hair, the long strands grown to his shoulders in the past month.

"Mmm?"

"Look."

She shifts against him and lifts herself on protesting elbows. They are lying side by side by the window, a clash of black and ginger and white and raven. Deep, rich sunlight slants into the cell as the sun begins its slow crawl below the horizon. Orihime watches the sunset streak across the sky and world spread out beneath her and takes in a breath.

This is how her world ends.

They drift in silence, watching voicelessly as the sun waves, seeming to hover in the air a moment before it admits defeat and slides out of sight. Shadows begin to set in over Soul Society.

Ishida-kun's hand is suddenly curling around hers. Orihime looks to see him still staring out the window, a grim expression on his smooth face.

"They'll come for you soon," he says. "You can't sleep here."

_Can't I?_ Orihime wants to ask, but she knows it's true; no matter how cooperative she has made Ishida-kun, the Commander General would never let her spend the night with an alleged criminal. She has not won his trust yet.

Orihime squeezes Ishida-kun's hand and simply holds on, refusing to let go until the last vestige of light disappears from the world, and the ghosts come to send her back.

* * *

There are whispered warnings in the air. They slip and slide down her back and raise goose bumps along her spine, creep and crawl and make her feel uneasy. Orihime stands a foot from the entrance to the Penitence Tower and studies the shadows before her. There is no one there, no one to give her these feelings of caution and fear.

_Women's intuition,_ she thinks, and immediately shudders. Intuition is beginning to become her most dreaded ally.

The chill in the air fears nothing of her clothing and penetrates to her very core. She rubs her arms, teeth chattering like living things, and misses Ishida-kun's warmth.

Orihime begins to head back to the Fourth Division. Her heart seeks to buoy itself back to happiness; Ishida-kun has finished grieving, and Kurosaki-kun has promised he will save them both tomorrow. Everything will be alright.

"Everything will be alright," she says aloud, as if it is more real in the air, and nods determinedly to herself.

Hanatarou-kun must be worried by now. Orihime has not the slightest idea of the time, but it is later than she has ever stayed before. He might even be heading over to check up on her this very instant. She should hurry back so she won't miss him.

She has every intention of going back to the Fourth, no doubt in her mind that this is where she will go. Exhaustion has replaced the marrow in her bones. Her frame aches with weariness and the desire for a soft bed.

Yet for all Orihime's determination to go to sleep, someone has other intentions.

Perhaps it is something in the way a particular shadow shifts, or maybe there is some higher power guiding her thoughts. Whatever it is, something catches Orihime's attention and makes her turn toward it. She stops and stares to the side, eyes searching blindly for something even she doesn't know what to call.

It takes her but a moment to realize which Division she is turned toward, and even less to realize that it is night, and no one will be at the site of Ishida-kun's fall…

Gone are the thoughts of sleep and nice, comfortable beds, chased away by a sudden, burning need to sate her morbid curiosity. A warning from her long-dead brother drifts unbidden into her open mind.

_"Be careful. Curiosity killed the cat…"_

The soft patter of feet catches her attention.

"Inoue-san!"

Hanatarou-kun and Misora-san are suddenly there, the former jogging up to her with a relieved expression on his face. Misora-san looks as inscrutable as ever, though Orihime imagines she can see a hint of relief on the _shinigami's_ smooth-lined face.

"Hanatarou-kun, Misora-san," she says, feeling her eyes widen in surprise. "What are you doing here?"  
"We were worried," Hanatarou-kun says, reaching up a pale hand to rub embarrassedly at his long hair. "We came again earlier, but they said you were still in and you'd probably be out later. But it's a lot later than we thought it would be…"

"In short," Misora-san interrupts, "we came to pick you up."

Orihime's lips wobble feebly into a small smile. "Thank you. But I'm not going back just yet."  
"Eh?" Hanatarou-kun blinks and leans back in confusion. "But…but where else would you go?"  
"To the Twelfth."

Both _shinigami_ look at her with varying degrees of worry for her wellbeing.

"Inoue-san," says Misora-san, "it's late. You should rest. Tomorrow —"

"I know," Orihime replies softly. "But I have to see. Please? You can come if you want. I just need to see."

Misora-san and Hanatarou-kun exchange glances that make Orihime wither inside with affection. She can almost hear them thinking worried thoughts, wondering whether or not she has finally snapped. It should make her defensive, but Orihime is not that kind of person. She only gives that same smile that widens when Misora-san turns and nods in assent.

"I know _shun-po_. You and Hanatarou-san just have to hold on, and I can take us there in a second."

Orihime nods and reaches out to take Misora-san's arm. Hanatarou-kun clings to Misora-san's free hand with a quiet blush.

Sound, wind, light — they flash about her in a momentary tempest, and the next time Orihime opens her eyes from blinking, they are standing in the middle of the Twelfth division. Orihime uncurls her fingers from around Misora-san's arm and looks around her for the crater Ishida-kun spoke of.

"It's not here," Misora-san explains, seeing her confusion. "It's around the corner. But, Inoue-san, I have to ask you: are you sure you want to do this?"

Orihime jerks her head in a confident nod and silently begs her insides to stop squirming nervously. Her heart skips a desperate tune within her chest.

Misora-san's concerned expression dissolves into grim acceptance. She leads the way, Hanatarou-kun right behind her, and looks back to make sure Orihime has not stayed where she is.

Every step is agony. It is silent in the area; the "investigators" have retreated into safe dreams for the night. No one wants to be here in this place of death, no one except two unwilling _shinigami_ and Orihime herself. Her footsteps thunder in her ears like hellish drums of war, heralds to her impending misery.

But she has to see. There is an inexplicable need to see in her that cannot be denied, so she must look. She _must_.

Her two death-god guides stop just before they can turn the corner of the long, towering building that blocks the crater from view. They stand along the building's side and wait for her to reach them. Orihime realizes she has been dragging her feet and forces herself to walk at a faster pace.

"It's just around this corner, Inoue-san," says Misora-san. The air is heavy with unspoken words of caution and concern for the wellbeing of her soul. Orihime tries to give her friends a reassuring smile and finds that she cannot. She sucks in a breath, holds it, and releases only when her lungs start to burn.

She closes her eyes for one blissful moment, pretending she is anywhere but here. Then she reveals her gaze again, nods to herself, and steps around the corner.

She freezes. Horror lodges in her throat, choking her, killing her.

"Ah…ah…"

There is no crater. No hole in the ground, no missing piece of the Seireitei. No sign of anything she has been told ever since that fateful day when her throat was torn open and her blood stained her skin.

But there are bodies. Everywhere. Slumped against walls, lying in pieces on the blood-blackened ground, scattered on the rooftops. Dried blood flakes up against her feet when she steps on it. Wrinkled organs lie pooled around bodies cut neatly in half, like pale dead maggots as long as her arms. Bulging eyes stare at her, already half-eaten by decay. She can see straight through the abdomen of one man and into the open, crushed skull of another. Out of the corner of her eye, she catches the form of a gore-darkened _haori_, a small female figure twisted into death by her captain's side. Horror everywhere she turns.

The blood seeps through her pores, gathers in her throat in a scream that rises and pushes against her tongue but cannot escape. Orihime clamps her hands over her gasping mouth, trying to stifle the nausea and endless shrieks that build in her stomach. Her whimpers come through her trembling fingers.

"Ah…uh…"

_Behind her._

Orihime whirls on her heel and finds herself face-to-face with a gleaming _haori_. She looks up, neck craning, eyes watering with acidic tears.

The demon gives her a friendly smile.

"Hello there," it says, and agony rips through her stomach.

Everything stops. Orihime's breath, her thoughts, the horror — it all shudders and drops dead at the coldness spreading through her limbs. Orihime blinks uncomprehendingly.

_Wha…what…?_

She looks down and sees her stunned reflection staring back at her in the demon's blade. The sword has buried itself hilt-deep in her middle.

The demon makes a mocking sound in the back of its throat and jerks its sword free. Orihime feels it slide out of her stomach in a spray of heat and a deep, searing agony that crushes her to her knees. She grasps desperately at the demon's coat, her shaking fingers curling in the white fabric as her blood spurts onto it, turning it crimson.

"Nuh-uh," says the demon, and knocks her aside with a single blow. "Don' dirty my _haori_, kiddo. We don't know each other that well. Ha haha—!"

"Inoue-san?"

The demon twitches at the sound of Hanatarou-kun's call and quickly bends down to pat Orihime's head.

"Be a good girl and die fast, just like yer little boyfriend 'n Rukia-chan, yeah?"

She shudders. The life is flowing out of her in a gleaming pool. The demon steps around the puddle distastefully and smirks at her one last time, its bloodied sword gleaming in the half-light.

"Ciao, sweetums!"

And she is alone.

Orihime's vision is fading. Her extremities tremble with the cold, and it is all she can do to raise a hand weakly toward her friends when they come hurrying around the corner.

"H-help," she gasps, and tastes copper life, but they stop in their tracks and stare right over her.

"Where'd she go?" Hanatarou-kun asks, his hair fanning around his head as he whips it back and forth, eyes frantic.

_Here_, Orihime tries to scream, but her tongue weighs a ton and is dragging her down, down... _I'm right in front of you!_

Still they are blind. Hanatarou-kun's ankle is so close that if she reaches out…

With a tremendous effort that Orihime knows is her last, she lurches forward and wraps her shaking hand around Hanatarou-kun's bony ankle. When she looks up, he is still staring right over her. Her spirit wilts and her grip starts to slip. The world fades in at the edges.

No. No, no, no, no — she can't die. Not while Ishida-kun still needs her help.

This is her last try. If she doesn't make it through with this, no amount of determination or willpower will save her forsaken soul. Orihime curls her fingers tighter around her friend's ankle and touches her hairpins with her other hand.

"I…I _reject_!"

She feels it the instant it, whatever it is, breaks. It feels like a heavy veil ripping into thin, dying shreds, a mirror shattering into hundreds of little shards that tinkle around her as they fall. Hanatarou-kun and Misora-san jump.

Orihime slumps to the ground. Dimly, she hears Hanatarou-kun scream her name, feels Misora-san's hands lifting her head from the lifeless, unforgiving ground, sees something small and silver flash in Hanatarou-kun's hands…

She fades.

* * *

_"Heyo, Aizen-sama."_

_"Ah, Gin. Everything is going according to plan, I hope."_

_"Yessiree. It's done."_

_"Good, good…now all that's left is the Quincy, and we can leave this world…"_

* * *

_Orihime. _

_Big brother…_

_Wake up._

Her eyes open. Above her is a flat expanse of white, and she thinks she has died and gone to Heaven, only…Heaven is where she died.

She…she's dead.

Images rush in on her, cruel like a lover's betrayal. She remembers watching the sunset with Ishida-kun, visiting the Twelfth division, the demon, a sword through her middle and her friends acting as though she doesn't exist…

Orihime jerks and screams, phantom pain searing through her body, the demon's face leering over hers with a smile and such cruel, cruel eyes —

Someone is at her side immediately, pressing her into the sleeping mat in a way that snaps her back to the day she was carried into the Fourth, her throat split and bleeding her life out. Orihime trembles. The person is speaking to her as if to a frightened animal, trying to soothe her terror.

"That's right, Inoue-san, relax…relax…there. Much better."

Orihime tilts her head back and blinks into Unohana's reassuring face. She presses her hands into her stomach. There is no pain.

"I…I'm —"

"Alive and well," Unohana finishes for her. "You are lucky Hanatarou-san was there with you. Without his _zanpakutou's_ power, you might not have lasted until I arrived."

"Hanatarou-kun?"

"Yes, Inoue-san?" He appears at her side out of thin air. "She's going to be okay, right, Unohana-_taichou_?"

"Perfectly," Unohana says. "She just needs her rest."

"But…" Orihime puts her weight on her elbows and tries to rise. Unohana's cautious hands are there to catch her if she falls. She may be healed by the efforts of Hanatarou-kun and the Fourth captain, but her body still aches with weakness and shock.

"You didn't see me," she says to Hanatarou-kun. "You and Misora-san…it was like I wasn't even there."

"We've been trying to figure that out. We still haven't come up with an answer, but we're trying, Inoue-san." Unohana beckons to someone in the corner, and Misora-san comes into view. "Your friends told me what happened. We only needed your testimony to stop the execution."

"To stop the…the…" Orihime gapes in horror at the light coming through the thin walls. No. It's here. This is the day her world could come crashing down around her bruised knees.

"It's tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, Inoue-san. We couldn't convince the Commander-General to stop the execution."

"When is it? I have to stop them!" Orihime's voice breaks against the strain. She surges to her feet and nearly loses her balance, sagging into Unohana's waiting arms.

"Calm down, Inoue-san. You're not fully recuperated yet —"

"And Ishida-kun will never recuperate if I don't save him! You don't understand," she babbles, her hands fisting in the captain's clothes. "They did this to stop me, to keep me from helping Ishida-kun. It's all a part of their plan! If you don't let me go now, they'll win, and they'll kill them both —"

Hanatarou-kun wrinkles his forehead in confusion. "Huh? Whose plan is it? Who's going to kill who?"

"The de— Ichimaru!" Orihime gasps. "He's the one who tried to kill me. He left before I rejected whatever it was that was hiding me from you. And before he left, he told me he was going to kill Ishida-kun and Kuchiki-san!"  
"What?" Hanatarou-kun's eyes glisten with panic. "But…but why?"

"I don't know!" Orihime wails. "He didn't explain! He just stabbed me and left."

"What she's saying can't be true," Misora-san says to Unohana. "But she would never lie. None of this makes any sense."

"Please, I'll show you," Orihime says, thinking that if she can just reject the spell around the missing part of the Twelfth, they will see. They will all see. "Take me to the Twelfth before we run out of time. Please, Unohana-san. Please."

Unohana simply stares at her for a moment. Then she wraps Orihime in one arm and reaches out to hold on to Misora-san and Hanatarou-kun. Orihime feels the familiar lurch and shift of leaping across space and reality, and all of a sudden, her feet strike ground and she clings to Unohana for her failed support.

There are startled, angry shouts from the Twelfth _shinigami_ all around her. She rushes past them, ignoring their frustrated protests that they are performing important investigations. Bile surges up in a burning wave at the site of the decaying bodies rotting in open sunlight.

Orihime summons her powers. A golden-orange shield spreads as far as she can reach, covering nearly the entire scene of the massacre. Her head pounds with fatigue and adrenaline, and everything is happening so fast, so unbelievably _fast_ that it is all she can do to concentrate on this simple, life-changing act —

Ishida-kun's kind face appears before her eyes.

"I reject!"  
The burst of power it takes for her to break the spell knocks her flat on her back. The sky twists and twirls dizzily above her, making Orihime's eyes flutter. She hears a unified intake of breath. And then, the first of the screams.

Hands on her back and shoulders, lifting her to sit up, but she doesn't want to see the horrified faces, the tears, the terror that she knows will be there to rip her heart apart with guilt. She clamps her eyes shut and holds tight to the person's thin arm.

"Do you see them?" She whispers into the darkness. "Can you see what I see?"

The person is shaking even as she offers her help. "I see," Misora-san's stunned voice says. "I…oh, Gods…"

The screams are increasing in number and terror. Someone new grasps Orihime's shoulders and leads her away from the _shinigami_ that push past her, stumbling with horror and grief in place of their sanity. Orihime grips the hands of Misora-san and the newcomer as she does her hold on reality.

"You have seen this before," Unohana says to her, her low voice cutting through the chaos like a sword's strike. "You knew this was here. How?"

Orihime shakes her head into the abyss that stretches out beneath her closed eyelids. It is better in the dark. In the dark, she is free to speak, safe from the terror of reality. "I don't know. I saw it last night, right before Ichimaru came. It was like how Hanatarou-kun and Misora-san couldn't see me, but bigger. I wasn't supposed to see it. So they tried to…"

"Okay," Hanatarou-kun squeaks. "Can anyone else feel that?"

Orihime doesn't know what he means, but by the way Misora-san and Unohana go still, they do.

"It feels like…" Unohana's steady hold disappears and Orihime panics at the sudden loss of touch. She knows all she has to do is open her eyes and she will regain her calmness, but she isn't ready to face the grief around her.

"What?" She asks frantically. "What do you feel?"

"It feels like…but that's impossible," Hanatarou-kun splutters. "He's dead…"

With those two, simple words, everything clicks into place. The broken puzzle board set before Orihime, all its pieces missing or mismatched, suddenly comes together to make a picture more horrifying than anything she's ever seen before. Her eyes fly open.

"Aizen," she says, and isn't sure how she knows, but there can't be any other explanation. "It's Aizen. He did this."

"But…but how could he? He's _dead_," Hanatarou-kun repeats feebly.

"No, he's not." Unohana comes forward with a crimson-stained _haori_ in her hand and holds it out to Hanatarou-kun, who cringes away. Misora-san stares openly, her face covered with a mask of stunned disbelief.

"This belonged to Kurotsuchi-_taichou_ before he died. Do you feel that? It's Aizen's _reiatsu_. This _haori_ is covered in it."

"Ishida-kun said he saw Aizen just before he lost control," Orihime says. "He says he just appeared and disappeared. He doesn't remember that Aizen did anything, just that he smiled and vanished. And that was it."

"That's not possible," Misora-san insists faintly. "What you're saying…Unohana-_taichou_, he's _dead_. He was dead long before the Quincy killed these people."

Unohana rejects the woman's claims before Orihime can. "That's what I'm trying to tell you, Misora-san. That is what Inoue-san has been trying to tell us all along. Ishida-san did not kill these people. They killed each other."

Orihime turns rigid with shock. She may have known something was terribly wrong, that Ichimaru and Aizen had a hand in it, but to have the beliefs she has spouted for nearly two months spoken by a captain, someone with power and influence…her heart trembles. Misora-san is shaking her head so vehemently Orihime can almost picture her brain rattling loose in her skull.

"Why would they —?"

"I don't know, but these people are covered in each other's _reiatsu_. There's no denying it, Misora-san. There was something wrong with Aizen's corpse, and now we're finding traces of his _reiatsu_ on murdered _shinigami_. All the evidence points to one conclusion. Inoue-san, if I may…"

Orihime knows what Unohana is going to ask for; it is what everyone has wanted since the horror began. She tilts back her head and shows Unohana her scar. The captain traces the uneven lines with her fingers.

"See these edges? I know a Quincy cut when I see one. An archer, losing control or not, would never make such a jagged cut."

Orihime's head starts to spin, and it is only then that she realizes she has been holding her breath. She opens her mouth and stares at Unohana, silently begging her to mean what Orihime thinks she is saying.

"Ishida-kun didn't…"

"No, Inoue-san," Unohana says. "Ishida-san is innocent. Ichimaru-_taichou_ cut your throat."

Orihime closes her eyes.

"I recognize his spiritual signature from the wound on your stomach. He hid his _reiatsu_ well, but when you 'rejected' whatever spell hung over Hanatarou-san and Misora-san, you reversed his efforts to hide his crimes. Your scar reeks of Ichimaru-_taichou_, as this massacre does of Aizen."

"So you really were right all along," says Misora-san dazedly. She starts and gives Orihime a horrified stare. "But if you were right, then Soul Society is about to kill an innocent boy…"

"It will _not_ happen," Unohana insists. "Inoue-san, you said that Ichimaru-_taichou_ mentioned he would try to kill Kuchiki-san as well?"

Orihime nods. "I don't know what he wants with her."

Unohana opens her mouth to speak. A deep, resounding toll stops her before she can so much as whisper.

Orihime quivers at the sound. It rings deep in her bones, disturbing her marrow, vibrating throughout her entire body. She knows that bell. She has heard it in far too many terrible dramas, too many tragedies. The death knell.

They are ringing Ishida-kun's death knell.

"No," she gasps. "No, no — not already! It can't be happening already!"

Heads turn at the sound, torn away from the nightmare in front of them to the one about to occur on Sougyoku Hill. Unohana snaps into action in a way that belies her calm exterior.

"You three, hold on to me. We are going to the execution. Hanatarou-san, Misora-san, you go and convince them to stop. Inoue-san and I will go to Kuchiki-san —"

"No!" Orihime has no idea what possesses her to speak out against a captain, but she will not leave Ishida-kun to face his fate alone. She has promised to always be there for him. And she is no liar.

"I have to go to Ishida-kun," she says. "I have to be there with him. Please, Unohana-san. Kurosaki-kun will be there — he can help you with Kuchiki-san."

"Inoue-san, I don't know what will happen. You will be safest with me."

"I don't care!" Orihime shrieks. "Please listen to me. If something happens and you can't see what I see anymore, I need to be there to stop it. Ishida-kun will die without me. Please."

The death knell continues its ominous tolling. Unohana remains still, thinking, thinking…

"Very well. Misora-san," she says, "take Hanatarou-kun and Inoue-san to Sougyoku Hill. I will go the Penitence Tower to help Kuchiki-san."

"Thank you," Orihime murmurs as Misora-san takes her hand. "Thank you."

"We're gone," says Misora-san, and they are.

* * *

_"Time to play."_

* * *

Orihime's knees slam into hard-packed dirt and tiny rocks. She lurches forward and catches herself on her hands. A furious, blistering wind whips at her hair and stings her face, bringing tears to her eyes. Beside her, Hanatarou-kun wails at the spiritual pressure that presses down on them like all the weight of the world.

Orihime lifts her head. _Shinigami_ gape at them in surprise and alarm. She can see the daunting figure of the Commander-General out of the corner of her eye. Misora-san's grip is crushing the blood from her fingers.

She has eyes only for Ishida-kun.

He is suspended in the air, his arms held up by two blocks the color of bone, his bare feet balancing on two more identical stones. He does not see her, for he is staring his death straight in the eye, and it is terrible.

Orihime cannot imagine a more terrifying beast than the one staring Ishida-kun down. Its name comes to her from the knowledge pried from reluctant _shinigami_ mouths — _phoenix_ — but no amount of mental or emotional preparation could have saved her from this. It is a creature of fire and might, so massive she fears if it breathes it will suck her down into its flaming bowels. It is focused entirely on its victim.

Ishida-kun.

Orihime knows what she must do.

"Misora-san," she says, and whispers her intent in the older woman's ear. Misora-san doesn't question. She does not refuse. Instead, as the wind whips around them and the _shinigami_ hurry forward to stop them, she turns to Orihime and says, "I hope you know what you're doing."

They disappear in a fraction of a second and reappear between Ishida-kun and the beast. Ishida-kun cries out in surprise — _"Inoue-san!"_ — and she pushes back against him the instant Misora-san jumps back to safety, sharing his space on the execution pedestal.

"Trust me," she whispers to him, even as he screams at her to get to safety. The beast is leaning forward, intent on destroying them both, and Orihime has never been more at peace.

"I reject!"

The shield goes up around them both. The beast strikes.

* * *

A/N: Review, even if I was evil to you this chapter?

-Kimsa


	9. Judgment

Aaaand...thank you reviewers! If I'm a dork, then I'm a dork, but I must admit that I can't resist re-reading and re-re-reading your reviews. Your guys' response gives me motivation; that's part of the reason this chapter came in so soon! Plus, I was really eager to write this.

_**Note**_: feel free to make a guess at _any_ of the nine half-truths (tenth will be in the last chapter). Remember, there is one in each chapter, and they usually arrive in the middle or the end of a chappie. Anyone who can correctly pick out even one half-truth will receive a dedication in the next chapter. ;) Good luck!

Hint: this one's is at the beginning. Very beginning. ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. I'm just borrowing, but sharing is caring, yes? No? Oh well. I was so sure by some random, impossible chance Kubo-sensei would read and decide to share…(this, my friends, is called sarcasm).

* * *

_Half-Truths_

_- Judgment - _

* * *

Death is kind. It never hesitates to visit, always leaps at an opportunity to ease the pain, and comes rushing in on Orihime like a childhood friend, arms wide to crush her in a loving embrace. Today, Death is a raging fire. Tomorrow, it might be a knife through the heart or a steep drop yawning out beneath her. That is, if there even is a tomorrow.

Death sharpens everything into focus. She can feel the droplets of sweat rolling down her back, the sting of her hair writhing around her face like Medusa's snakes in wind from the phoenix's beating wings, Ishida-kun's chest pressing into her back as she struggles not to fall off the two stone blocks holding them both up.

Death makes her want to live again. Death makes her want what she cannot have.

As the phoenix strikes, Orihime holds her shield strong and closes her eyes.

And someone stops Death from stealing what she holds dearest to her in this world of the living dead.

"Kurosaki," Ishida-kun gasps behind her. Orihime opens her burning eyes.

There he is. He balances above gravity like a god, feet planted firmly on nothing, massive _zanpakutou_ barring the phoenix's path. Kurosaki-kun turns his head over his shoulder and, outlined by fire and Death and fury, gives her a confident wink.

"Hey, Inoue. Looks like I arrived just in time, huh?"

She is so happy to see him she can barely speak. Tears make their way down her soot-stained face and evaporate against her skin in an instant.

"Kurosaki-kun," she says, and that is all she can say.

He gives her his trademark smirk. "And how're you holdin' up, Ishida?"

Even over the crackle of the inferno, Orihime can hear Ishida-kun's disbelieving snort. "How do you think, Kurosaki?"

Kurosaki-kun's smirk grows into a crooked grin. "Good to see you're still sarcastic. Great job keepin' him alive, Inoue."

Orihime gives a wobbling, teary smile and heaves a sound that is half laugh, half sob of relief. "Thank you," she gasps. "Thank you, thank you."

He shrugs and turns back to the raging beast before him. "Don't let that shield down just yet. I don't know how messy this is going to turn out to be."

"Hold on, Inoue-san," Ishida-kun says behind her. She nods and, though she is pressed so close against him that she can feel his heartbeat jumping against her skin, scoots back an inch.

_Don't look down_, she thinks resolutely. _Don't look down at the drop or the people ready to kill you or your feet and his feet squeezed onto one tiny stone block…_

The phoenix draws back to deliver a second strike. Kurosaki-kun lurches at the sudden movement and lifts his soul-cutter higher. Orihime jumps at the offensive position. He can't be planning to kill it…can he?

"Crazy fool," Ishida-kun mutters, and certainty hits the bottom of her stomach like a sinking rock.

"W-wait, Kurosaki-kun!"

Old habits die hard; like always, he ignores her well-meaning warnings. There is a flash of light and the phoenix cries out, its death-shriek drilling painfully into her head. Heat explodes around them. A spark singes Ishida-kun's arm and he hisses in pain, but it is the only debris that gets past Orihime's shield.

"You can open your eyes now," says Kurosaki-kun's voice above her head, and it is only then that Orihime realizes she had shut them. The phoenix is gone. She looks up, her head nearly colliding with Ishida-kun's as they both crane their necks to see Kurosaki-kun perched on the wooden arch. His _zanpakutou_ comes up and buries itself in the wood.

The resulting burst of power nearly sends Orihime flying off her pedestal. She stumbles and reaches back for support, hands grasping wildly before they find Ishida-kun. Orihime wraps herself around him, screaming into his neck as waves of shattering reiatsu pulse over her.

A steady arm slings itself around her middle. Her hands are ripped away from Ishida-kun and she panics. There is a familiar, stomach-twisting rush of sound and air, and finally firm wood beneath her feet. Orihime blinks.

She stands atop the ruined arch, Kurosaki-kun's arm keeping her firmly in place. He holds Ishida-kun upright with his other hand around the Quincy's upper arm. There is no avoiding the steep drop beneath them now. Orihime feels faintly sick at the sight of so many people so far below her. She wishes desperately for Ishida-kun's arm around her waist, instead of Kurosaki-kun's, even though she knows Ishida-kun is about to keel over with exhaustion.

Down below, she can see Chad and Yoruichi-san holding back a small group of _shinigami_ fighting to get to them atop the arch. Yamamoto, Hanatarou-kun and Misora-san tagging along on his heels, makes his way steadily toward the wooden structure's base. Dread cools her heart.

"Kurosaki-kun." The heat and fear have rendered her already-fragile voice hoarse, but she is strong above the pain and discomfort. "Can you get me down there?"

Kurosaki-kun and Ishida-kun stare at her in outright confusion.

"Huh? Why?"

"Inoue-san?" She bears Ishida-kun's surprise with reluctance.

"I need to talk to the Commander-General," Orihime replies. "Trust me, Kurosaki-kun. I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah," Kurosaki-kun says, "I really hope you do."

Flash step again, and she is staring Yamamoto directly in the eye. His piercing eyes glare at her from amid a face of stern strength and sterner angles.

"Orihime Inoue," he greets her. "You have betrayed our trust."

Orihime swallows painfully, praying that Kurosaki-kun will get Ishida-kun to safety if everything falls apart again. "Ishida-kun is innocent."

"So your Fourth-Division friends have been telling me," Yamamoto says, gesturing sharply to Hanatarou-kun and Misora-san's cringing figures. "I remain unconvinced."

Orihime is all too aware of the death gods closing in on them. Kurosaki-kun and Ishida-kun move nervously as Chad and Yoruichi-san are forced into their circle. She touches her marred neck, wincing at the thought of her scar's true parent.

"Captain Unohana examined my scar. She says the _reiatsu_ on it doesn't belong to Ishida-kun."

Ishida-kun is impossibly still beside her. His silence is so complete, his body so motionless, it is like she is standing next to a lifeless figurine composed only of stone and tentative hope.

Yamamoto reaches out a hand and stops just short of touching her. She sees his eyes widen as he detects the _reiatsu_ clinging to her scar like a second skin.

"Impossible," he rumbles.

"Not quite."

Orihime starts at the smooth voice that rolls over her shoulders like poisoned silk. Something heavy pushes past her and hits the dusty ground between her and Ishida-kun. She looks down, her heart in her mouth.

Kuchiki-san lies motionless on the ground, eyes bulging with shock and hands clutching at her chest.

The _shinigami_ around her are backing up with startled cries of disbelief, some swiping at their eyes in disbelief as their only means of vision suddenly decides to betray them. Breath as cold as Death's kiss brushes against Orihime's ear, but she is too petrified with terror to even shudder. A large hand, streaked with guilty blood, snakes its way into her field of vision and clamps down on her shoulder. Orihime turns her head.

Aizen stares back at her and smiles pleasantly. "Hello, Orihime. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Orihime cannot move. Every ounce of sanity she has left howls at her to run as far away from this man as she can, but her control has fled in the face of this monster. On Aizen's other side, a dark-skinned man holds his _zanpakutou_ to Ishida-kun's exposed neck. The sword bobs as Ishida-kun swallows. His eyes are focused solely on her.

_Save yourself, _his gaze begs her. She cannot. Not without saving him.

"Do you know who I am?" The monster asks.

Orihime nods. "Aizen," she breathes.

"Very good." Aizen squeezes her shoulder lightly and nods to someone next to her. Orihime turns slowly and nearly screams at the sight of the demon-captain, her would-be murderer, leaning down with a smile on its face.

"Gin here was supposed to kill you twice now," Aizen says. "Yet you managed to survive both times. I am impressed."

"My friends saved me," Orihime whispers.

"Oh, yes." Aizen's calm smile tightens around the edges. His eyes slide toward Ishida-kun, terrifying Orihime with the controlled disgust she sees in his gaze. It is like he is looking at nothing more than a repulsive insect, not the person she holds closest to her stuttering heart.

"Your _friends_." Aizen releases her shoulder. Before Orihime can even think of escaping, the demon's hands slink over both shoulders and hold her in place. Its long fingers dig into her flesh, making her try to cringe away. The demon holds her still.

Orihime looks around wildly for help, but instead of coming closer, people are backing away.

"Don't touch them!" Someone shouts.

"Here it comes —"

"Dammit!" Kurosaki-kun tries to break past the shinigami holding him back and fails. "Inoue! Ishida!"

Light. It cascades down from the heavens, surrounding the demon, Aizen, Orihime, the dark-skinned man and Ishida-kun in a gleaming column. Everyone shies away from the light's golden glaze as if from a terrible plague.

"Negacíon," Yamamoto growls. "They are untouchable."

"Let them go, you bastard!" Kurosaki-kun howls. Aizen's only reply is to smirk and turn back to Orihime, but she is transfixed by Kuchiki-san's shivering form lying outside the golden column.

"What did you do to her?"

"I took what I needed," Aizen says. "Not to worry; she's merely in shock. I have no more use for her."

"And Captain Unohana?" Guilt hovers readily on the sides of Orihime's conscience. She was the one who sent Unohana to protect Kuchiki-san. If this monster has hurt her…

"Likewise," Aizen replies, putting her fears to rest. "My sole objective was to explain my intentions and leave."

"What are your intentions?" Orihime's gaze is drawn to Ishida-kun, who is still hostage under the third traitor's blade. "Why did you try to kill Ishida-kun?"

A frightening gleam enters the monster's eye. It reminds Orihime of the look in the eyes of the students who used to bully her. It was the look of someone who had cornered their prey, had complete control of the situation…and knew it.

"I needed a distraction," Aizen says smoothly. "While Soul Society was occupied with slaughtering an innocent, I was able to visit dear Rukia in her cell and retrieve _this_."

He holds his palm open in front of her nose. A blue-purple sphere, locked in what looks like glass, rests there. Orihime can feel its power vibrating, humming through her form without even touching it.

"The Hougyoku," Aizen announces, and she has a feeling his audience spreads far beyond only her. "With this, I will ascend to heaven and stand atop the world. This world and the next will be mine. I have been manipulating Soul Society for centuries — you are all nothing more than pawns in this game. The Quincy was merely a convenient tool in my plan. And I must say…the plan worked _flawlessly_."

"How?" Ishida-kun's question seems to take even Aizen by surprise. The traitor holding him captive slides his soul-cutter's blade threateningly against Ishida-kun's Adams apple. "How did you convince everyone that I killed those people?"

Aizen slides his _zanpakutou_ free from its trappings. Orihime's soul quails when he holds its tip out to touch Ishida-kun's throat.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then Ishida-kun and the _shinigami_ barred from entering the golden light flinch back, eyes screaming horror, horror. Orihime jerks against the demon's hold with confusion. What is happening? What can they see that she can't?

Kurosaki-kun and Chad are the only ones who don't seem to be affected. They, too, stare at the nervous people around them, the only sanity in the midst of monsters she can neither see nor touch.

"Nearly all of you now see a Menos Grande standing next to me. Those of you who don't see what is truly there: nothing."

A ripple of excitement goes through the crowd.

"What…it's gone!" A death god cries.

"Where did it go?"

"You fools," Aizen utters quietly. "There was never a Hollow there to begin with. Behold: Kyouka Suigetsu's _shikai_. Complete hypnosis. Everyone who is witness to its release falls under its spell immediately. I can make you feel what I want you to feel. I can make you believe the most heinous lies you could ever imagine, and even with the realization of your hypnosis, you cannot break free. You were and shall remain nothing more than my slaves."

There is complete and outraged silence. Aizen revels in the voiceless signs of his triumph and lowers his soul-cutter to his side.

"That, Uryuu, is how I was able to frame you." He moves forward to tower over Ishida-kun and gives him a small smile. "The _shinigami_ already hated the Quincy. Who better, then, to pose the murderer of half a Division of death gods? With Soul Society occupied with planning your death, no one would realize my intentions until it was too late."

Ishida-kun is brave. He remains still as Aizen lifts a hand and traces the outline of his jaw, running his thumb over Ishida-kun's light skin until it comes to rest on his frantic pulse. Aizen strokes Ishida-kun like a prize pet, yet Ishida-kun never looks away from the monster's cruel eyes.

"It was simple," Aizen continues. "I had only to appear for an instant to put you under my spell, and you believed that you killed tens of corrupted souls, when in reality they slaughtered each other. Kurotsuchi, I'm afraid, was too intelligent for his own good. I had to kill him myself."

"Then…" Ishida-kun is the most intelligent person Orihime knows, but at this moment he appears dumbfounded by his own innocence. "I'm…"

"Innocent." Aizen finishes Ishida-kun's sentence for him and presses his thumb deep into Ishida-kun's pulse. "Yes, Uryuu, it's true. You are nothing more than a virtuous, blameless _hero_ fighting for the light."

The monster snaps his finger a certain way and Ishida-kun jumps. A thin line of blood pours over his pulse point and runs down his neck. Aizen removes his hand and wipes Ishida-kun's blood on his _haori_.

"How disgusting."

Ishida-kun lurches against the blind man's hold and earns himself a shallow cut across his neck. He doesn't seem to notice the pain. "Why Inoue-san, then? If I was the only one you needed to further your plan, why did you try to kill Inoue-san?"

"She was too close to you," says Aizen. "It appears I was right in suspecting the effect she would have on your recovery. I had expected you to be broken, but…no matter. It is time to leave this world."

He lifts the Hougyoku in one hand for the world to see. Suddenly, the ground beneath their feet begins lurching and rising, sending Orihime stumbling in the demon's grasp. She hears it curse under its breath, feels its long-fingered hands swiping wildly for her. And then she is free.

Everything slows. Orihime is liberated from the demon's hold, but it is coming quickly toward her with unbelievable speed. Their patch of ground is rising toward the sky, where what looks like a crescent-shaped eye opens like a massive Cyclops above their heads. Ishida-kun's eyes go wide at her sudden freedom. Aizen notices and motions dismissively for the demon to recapture her in its claws, convinced that she poses no threat.

He is arrogant. Orihime has not known this man for ten minutes, and already she can see the overflowing pride that bulges his humanity at its seams. Everyone is below him, especially her. She is only an insect, like Ishida-kun, to be used and manipulated and eventually crushed beneath his heel.

Aizen does not expect her to retaliate. Neither does she, until the blind traitor hears her stumble toward Ishida-kun and starts to kill him.

In a flash, Orihime remembers her nightmares. She sees Ishida-kun lying dead in the corner of his cell, the demon dragging Ishida-kun into darkness, the faceless captain holding her at his side. Faceless. The face.

_Go, Orihime,_ a voice not unlike her big brother's commands. Ishida-kun's face crumples into pain as the blind traitor begins the incision. _Now!_

Orihime swerves. The demon's hands cut the air where she once stood. Orihime's feet rush, taking her not to Ishida-kun or the blind man, but to Aizen, who ignores the scene playing out as something beneath him. She sees his eyes widen a fraction as she catches her balance on him, one of her hands clutching the Hougyoku. Her other hand comes up…

_Now._

…And clamps over his face. In all the time it takes for her to blink, Aizen's eyes meet hers, and she can see the light shift as he realizes his mistake. Orihime's spirit swells with the will of a hundred vengeful murdered death gods. She hears their command and obeys. There is no hate. There is no anger. There is only determination.

"I reject."

Lightning in her palm, her arm, her entire body and soul. Lightning that travels through her, her shaking form a channel, and strikes the monster deep in its rotting soul. Orihime has time only to feel the spirits' relief, their passing, before numbness fills the void they leave behind and rushes in to claim her.

* * *

A/N: And so concludes the penultimate chapter of _Half-Truths_. Yes, that's right, "Judgment" is the second-to-last chappie. One more! And we draw to a close.

Please review!

-Kimsa


	10. Infinity

This is it — the last chapter of _Half-Truths_. I want to thank every reader for following along, whether or not you reviewed (though your response certainly made me a much happier and motivated Kimsa). I can't believe how great the response to this story has been!

_Note_: The half-truths are finally revealed. Look for them in _italics_; they're scattered throughout the second half of the chapter.

_Note II_: I wrote most of this chapter to Joe Hisaishi's "The Sixth Station." I highly recommend you listen to it, at least for the first half of the chappie.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. But sharing…oh, never mind.

_

* * *

__Half-Truths_

_-_ Infinity -

* * *

_She flies._

_Up into the heavens above and below, pure ether filling her lungs and lighting up her insides like luminescent lights at the start of a new year. Cities glow like fireflies beneath her soaring feet. She imagines all the little people, tucked into their beds, into each other, laughing and crying and subsisting through each day as it comes. Once upon a time, she'd done the same. _

_Now…she flies above it all, sweeping above her home in this beautiful, impossible dream. This can't be real. Every thread of logic in her brain cries out in rebellion as she twirls and leaps and darts across the heavens. But Orihime has always been in love with her imagination, so she does not deny it its sweet indulgences._

_Happy. She has never been so happy. And never so lonely._

_"Orihime."_

_Light touches on her thin shoulders, on her cheeks pink with the chilly touch of ether. She looks up. Kind grey eyes, the twins of her own, gaze back at her with a look dominated by sadness and love._

_"Big brother…"_

_Sora. He passed long ago, so long ago, and she knows that he is nothing more than a figment of her cruel imagination. He is a soul somewhere in Soul Society. He can't be here._

_Yet here he is._

_"Orihime," he says again, and rests his hand on her head. He looks exactly as she remembers him: long brown hair, loving smile, face humming with life. She hurls her arms around him._

_"I missed you," she murmurs, squeezing her eyes shut to bar the tears that try to push through. "I missed you so much."_

_Sora's arms come around her, squeezing affectionately. "You've done well," he says. She looks up at him, eyebrows wrinkled in forgetful confusion. _

_He smiles fondly, patiently. "I can understand if you don't remember. I wouldn't want to remember it, either. But that doesn't change what happened. That doesn't change how _you've_ changed."_

_He releases her and takes a step back, holding her at arm's length. "You've changed so much," he says. "You're stronger, much stronger than I remember."_

_She is comfortable under his careful scrutiny. She trusts him, just as much as she trusts…_

_Trusts…_

_Sora nods. "That's it. Remember?"_

_She shakes her head. "No, I…I don't think I want to."_

_"We always have to face our fears, Orihime. Whether or not we want to. You remember. Come on."_

_And as easily as that, she does. She tries not to, sensing that something both horrible and wonderful has happened, but the memories come rushing in on her happiness anyway. _

_Aizen — monster — and Gin — demon — and the blind captain — traitor. She remembers the will of the murdered Twelfth Division spirits rushing through her, filling her with determination and deadly intent. She recalls the searing burn of the Hougyoku beneath her fingertips, its power surging through her, her hand coming up to latch onto Aizen's face…_

_Orihime gasps._

_"There," says Sora proudly. "I knew you could do it."_

_She lifts her hands up before her face, staring open-mouthed at her trembling fingers. "I…I rejected him. I…" Sora's face is open and understanding when she looks up at him. "Did I really…?"_

_"Did you succeed?" Sora dips his head. "Yes."_

_"But…but how? I've never…_rejected_ anyone with Shun Shun Rikka before. All I was trying to do was save Ishida-kun. I didn't want to…_kill_ anyone!"_

_Sora moves forward and holds her close again when she starts to shake. "Shh. It's okay, Orihime. You're okay. Listen. I don't know how you managed to pull it off, but you did. Maybe it had something to do with the Hougyoku — maybe your powers were able to purify its power before you used it to reject Aizen. Maybe you're stronger than we know. And maybe there was a little divine intervention — or it might be all three of those reasons, or none of them. We don't know. What we do know is that Aizen is gone. You've saved Soul Society so much bloodshed. You've saved everyone."_

_Orihime shakes her head and takes her lower lip in between her teeth. "I just didn't want any more sadness," she murmurs. _

_"Hmm." Sora takes her chin and tilts it until she looks him in the eye. "Then you are purer than anyone I've ever met, dead or alive."_

_Against her strongest control, her lips twitch up in a half-smile._

_"No I'm not," she says, and Sora doesn't argue. He looks up and away, into the heavens, as if listening to something. Orihime strains her ears and hears only her heartbeat thudding in her chest._

_"Well. It's time for you to wake up," smiles Sora. _

_For a moment, Orihime is tempted to curl her fingers into his shirt and keep him from leaving. The last time she saw him, he tried to kill her. Who knows what he'll be like when she sees him again? _If_ she sees him again._

_Sora pats her on the head. "Don't worry, little sister. We'll see each other again. Someday."_

_Gravity tugs at her heels. Sora's touch dissolves into empty space, and Orihime feels herself falling, falling…_

_Someday…_

* * *

Orihime opens her eyes.

The first thing she sees is the ceiling. It takes an eternity for her location to register, even though she has woken to the same ceiling too many endless days in a row. Her head rolls to the side, movement birthing a sudden stretching pain that stuns her into stillness.

How long has she been asleep? How many days did she spend rollicking in infinity, free from the pain that would descend upon her body in her absence?

Over the pain in her neck, Orihime feels something soft and light puffing against her bare arm. She thinks she understands what a waking corpse must feel when she tries to turn her head more, but she wants to see.

Ishida-kun. She doesn't know how she could have expected anyone else. He watches over her even in his sleep, just as she did for him through their suffering, their despair and hope. He is curled up at her side with his head close to her own, his breath coming in calm puffs that curl and brush against her skin like a friendly cat.

Orihime's hand shakes when she lifts it to Ishida-kun's face. She pushes her weakness into a little corner, refusing to give in to the ache of unused muscles, and brushes her fingertips over Ishida-kun's eyes.

It is like watching a wind-up toy come to life: amazing, unbelievable, miraculous. At first Ishida-kun only blinks sleepily at her, waiting to truly wake up, to close his eyes for a split second and open them to find her asleep once more. Orihime smiles fondly at him and cups his cheek in her hand.

"Ishida-kun," she says in a thin whisper.

Ishida-kun's eyes go wide and round. "Inoue-san," he says, and moves forward in a rush to cradle her face in his hands. Orihime raises her other hand and strokes Ishida-kun's cheekbones, lips and eyes, unsure of whether this is a shaky fantasy or finally, after so many days of uncertainty, reality.

"Hi," she breathes, and his lips stretch up in a full smile for the first time in far too long.

"Hello, Inoue-san." He leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead and buries his hands and face in her hair, breathing her in as if he wishes to keep enough of her to last all eternity.

She waits until he has finished welcoming her back to the land of the living dead to speak. "How long was I gone?"

Ishida-kun's smile falls into a thin line grim with the memory of the past. "Almost two weeks. We were starting to think you would never wake up."

"Two weeks?" Orihime winces and stretches her fingers and toes. That must be why her throat feels ready to crack and bleed at the slightest provocation, why her eyelids are heavy as bricks, her limp body weak and unresponsive like a breathing corpse. She lifts raw eyes to meet Ishida-kun's searching gaze.

"I…I'm really here, aren't I?" A little bubble of disbelief and joy burbles up and she coughs it out in a breathless laugh. "I really did it. I felt them, Ishida-kun—I felt the _shinigami_ Aizen killed. They helped me do it; they helped me use the Hougyoku to reject Aizen. That's alright, isn't it? I didn't mean to do it. It just…"

Ishida-kun's face settles into a picture of unwavering assuredness. "No, Inoue-san," he says firmly. "The _shinigami_ killed Aizen, not you; you were only the vessel. You are not to blame."

Orihime's eyes burn with grateful tears. _Ishida-kun is a good person._ She knows he is—but still, she reminds herself as she reaches up to take his face in her hands, for all his morality and kindness and selflessness, he is also proud, vengeful, and has a destructive tendency to push away those he needs most.

_You're not perfect,_ she thinks to the soul she holds cupped in her palms, _but I think I love you anyway._

After a silent moment, Ishida-kun reaches up and uncurls her hands away from his face. "I should tell the healers you're awake. Kurosaki and the others will want to know you're back with us, too."

Orihime is overcome with the irrational impulse to protest and keep Ishida-kun to herself, to revel in this precious, fragile moment as much as she can before someone takes it away. She holds the impulse down and feels the flush of shame on her cheeks. _She is selfish._ How dare she wish to keep Ishida-kun and their happiness all to herself, and not share with her best friends? They must be worried horribly about her.

She nods sheepishly. "Sorry," she says, and pretends not to notice his confused look.

"Sorry for what, Inoue-san?"

Footsteps in the hall outside, before she can release the guilt that plagues her shamed soul. The door slides open with a quiet rattle, and Unohana, Misora-san, and Hanatarou-kun stand in the doorway.

Hanatarou-kun is the first to overcome his shock. "I-Inoue-san!"

Misora-san smiles and leans languidly against the wall as Hanatarou-kun rushes Orihime, all happy clumsiness and giddy limbs. Orihime tries to laugh, but the sound catches in her sandpaper throat and shreds itself to tiny broken threads. She winces against the pain. Instantly, Unohana is at her side with a bowl of water.

"Drink, Inoue-san," she says kindly. "You must be thirsty."

Orihime takes the bowl and obeys. She does not miss the way the braided captain moves slower than usual, both while walking and doing something as simple as kneeling.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers. "Aizen said he hadn't hit you, but…I should have known it was a lie. I should've known he would be waiting for you. If I hadn't sent you…"

"Then Kuchiki-san would most likely be dead, and our losses would have been worse for it," Unohana says firmly. "There was no way you could have known, Inoue-san. If anyone should have suspected, it should have been me. You have nothing to apologize for. Besides, it was only a glancing blow compared to what he could have done."

Orihime bites her lip. _There must be scars there from how many times I've bitten it_, she thinks distractedly. "Still, I…"

"Saved us all," Misora-san finishes. She grins at Orihime's startled look and comes over to sit by her side. "It's good to see you finally awake and back to yourself, Inoue-san."

Orihime ventures into a faint smile. Ishida-kun is still there by her side, and she looks up to him for support…only to find her eyes drawn to the pale scar lancing across his neck.

"Ishida-kun!" Her eyes going wide with worry, Orihime hurriedly props herself up on her elbows and reaches to touch Ishida-kun's scar. "Your throat…"

Ishida-kun takes her hand in his. "It's alright, Inoue-san. It's healed."

"Ishida-san wouldn't leave your side," Unohana explains. "The cut Tōsen made wasn't as life-threatening as yours had been, but it was serious enough to leave its mark. If your friends had not convinced Ishida-san away from your side, we might not have been able to heal it without the risk of affection."

Orihime blinks dumbly at Unohana. Ishida-kun…endangered himself, just to ensure that she wasn't in any immediate danger?

_Of course he did,_ she thinks, and the thought is only half as weary as it should be.

_She is the only one who can help Ishida-kun. _It is a truth and lie all wrapped into one—because without their friends, their wonderful, flawed, courageous friends, Ishida-kun might have worse than a scar. He might have been lying on a cot by her side.

Orihime traces the outline of the scar and touches her own throat thoughtfully.

"We match," she whispers. "We are the same."

Ishida-kun inclines his head, and says nothing more.

Hanatarou-kun's happy voice cuts through the solemn tension. "Neh, Inoue-san, you should have seen what happened after you rejected Aizen! He just disappeared! He's gone. There's no trace of him anywhere—like he doesn't exist anymore. And after Aizen disappeared, the negacíon dissolved and we caught Ichimaru and Tōsen—I guess the Hollow knew who really held the power and cancelled the negacíon soon as Aizen was gone."

As usual, Hanatarou-kun's complete and utter lack of tact only makes Orihime's spirit swell with fondness, even as it makes Misora-san roll her eyes and Unohana press her lips into a reproving line.

"True," Unohana says. "Though I suggest you not let yourself become too relaxed, Inoue-san; after all, there are three people headed this way, and I suspect their welcoming will not be as restrained as ours was."

Orihime tilts her head in mild confusion. Ishida-kun huffs softly at her side, but before she can ask him who he feels approaching, three very familiar figures stand in the doorway.

"Hey, Ishida," Kurosaki-kun says. "We just wanted to…"

They catch sight of her. Mouths pressed into thin, grim lines suddenly fall open with complete and ecstatic surprise. A small smile brings tears to Orihime's eyes.

"Hi," she whispers.

Curse the limbs that refuse to lift when her friends come to her, the parched throat that swells shut with emotion, and the eyes that burn in agonizing, soul-tearing happiness as she is hugged, patted, spoken to. She floats cushioned on a miasma of relief and friendship, feeling as though she is drowning in her tears, and then in gratitude when she is told not to apologize for the silver streaks dripping down her cheeks.

Her friends, her wonderful unforgettable friends, surround her with their warmth and love and care, healing her with their very presence. They will do the same with Ishida-kun. She has seen it, as much as she has peered into Ishida-kun's eyes and seen hope.

_She has seen Ishida-kun's soul._

And yet there is so much more of his spirit to explore, so much she does not know about the solitary boy who kept her alive for more than an entire hellish month. She wants to know him. She wants to know this soul she has fallen so deeply for.

A steady hand, still rough from years of archery, grips her shaking fingers. She tilts her head back to smile dreamily at Ishida-kun as he kneels by her side, there to support her as he has always been.

_Orihime will always be there for him_, even though she knows fate will find a way to tear them apart. And when it does, she will fight tooth and nail to find her way back to him. She will not leave him to face the horrors of their wicked reality alone. There is nothing to stop her now, because _she forgives Ishida-kun for everything he has done_, even while she still feels resentment that he could ever condemn himself to the point of despair.

But he can't help it. After all, _Ishida-kun is only human_.

"And much more than that," she murmurs, and it comes out muffled and unheard as Kuchiki-san smothers her in a choking embrace. Ishida-kun is as flawed as any other person, but he is also purer and more righteous than any death god she has met.

_Everything will be alright. _

"But still so many things to face," she says as Kuchiki-san finally releases her. Orihime looks up into the clustered faces of her friends and wonders. "How can we face them all?"

"Together," Kurosaki-kun says firmly.

Kuchiki-san laughs. "We're never leaving you two again," she says, one hand on Ishida-kun's shoulder and the other on Orihime's. "But, gods…you know how hard it's gonna be, keeping an eye on you when you're always running off and getting into trouble?"

Chad nods. "We'll try our best."

Orihime takes in the people surrounding her. Misora-san, Hanatarou-kun, Unohana, Chad, Kuchiki-san, Kurosaki-kun, Ishida-kun…her friends and love, all around her and living and _here_. _Death is kind._ It can relieve the worst pain and the deadliest pleasure, take away the horror and the sorrow and the despair. And it can either tear people apart, so cruel, or bind them together with an unbreakable bond.

"I guess we're the lucky ones," Orihime says, and no one questions her words, because they fit, fit like the glue between the broken puzzle pieces, the healing hand on the bleeding heart.

Orihime needs nothing but this now, nothing but to breathe the air her family breathes, the air of the living dead that fills her lungs and leaves her dizzy with peace.

"Inoue-san." Ishida-kun leans in, still holding her hand. "Are you alright?"

She smiles up at him, so full of love and wonder that it is all she can do not to burst with happiness. "Yes," she says, and that is all.

There, in the midst of death gods and human beings, she reaches up and wraps her arms around her savior. Orihime buries her face in his neck and _breathes_. He has saved her, given her a reason to live. So in return, she has spared his life. She has granted the world another chance to hold Ishida Uryuu.

_It is her gift to the living dead._

* * *

_"There is a land of the living_

_and a land of the dead,_

_and the bridge is love."_

_-Thornton Wilder_

* * *

_End_

* * *

A/N: Once again, here are the half-truths in order:

1. Ishida is a good person.

2. Orihime is selfish.

3. Orihime is the only one who can help Ishida.

4. Orihime has seen Ishida's soul.

5. Orihime will always be there.

6. Orihime forgives Ishida for everything he has done.

7. Ishida is only human.

8. Everything will be alright.

9. Death is kind.

10. It is her gift to the living dead.

_Please review._


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